


trivium

by irwah



Series: gaycation [3]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Sounds Live Feels Live World Tour, plus one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-13 16:51:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10517871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irwah/pseuds/irwah
Summary: 'Calum whines low in the back of his throat and Michael kisses over his Adams apple, hand sliding lower until he’s gently stroking Calum’s dick through his jeans.“Well, if I knew it was that kind of night I would’ve ordered us some shots.” Ashton’s voice shocks Michael back into like, real life. There are things happening around he and Calum, other people and music and wow, yes, his boyfriend.“Ash, I, we-” He removes his hand and sits up straighter, preparing an apology.“Did I tell you to stop?” Ashton huffs, sliding across the booth until he’s on Calum’s other side. “I think Cal was rather enjoying that.”'or: Calum continues to join in Michael and Ashton's relationship and everything is totally fine...until it isn't





	

**Author's Note:**

> okay wow i can't believe the day has come for me to actually post this, it's been MONTHS. when i wrote bali mashlum I knew i wasn't done with this (vaguely) canon verse. I have always wanted to write a long tour fic, and slfl presented the perf context for it. this is set across "uk and europe" as sos like to say, and there may even be an american leg to come, but lets see if i can get a degree first....(dissertation is due in less than 6 weeks plz hold me in ur wishes)
> 
> not to sound like i'm giving an oscar's style thank u speech but WOW so many people have been my rocks during this; meg, sonny, nim, jamie, you all know i'm the clingiest writer imaginable so thank you so much for holding my hand and telling me i'll get thru it and just generally being incredible, i love u all ridiculous amounts and this is for u xxxxxxx
> 
> and to everyone who read the previous mashlum that ended on such an angsty note, i'm sorry i've made u wait so long but here, i present my child, the longest thing ive ever written, and an actual hot mess. i bloody hope u like it.
> 
> the title is latin (i think), and (so some website says), originates from 'the place where three roads meet', which is pretty fitting for these fuckin BOYFRIENDS
> 
> I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR THIS WRITING TO BE REPOSTED ANYWHERE. (stop fucking reposting my fics you wankers)

**I**

 Ashton always talks about how Michael’s eyes light up when he’s excited, calling them magical and sparkling, something sappy as fuck that always gets Michael rolling his eyes. But he doesn’t really get it – it’s a joke that someone with eyes as incredible as Ashton’s could possibly talk about anyone else’s.

They’re hazel and golden, always holding a perfect amount of warmth in them, whilst occasionally glinting with mischief when he wants to. It’s cheesy and disgusting and Michael’s pretty sure he’s stolen the thought from a Taylor Swift song but honestly, Ashton’s eyes look like coming home and Michael could get lost in them every day.

He does, mostly, find himself staring into them lovingly, fondly, pathetically, multiple times a day and it normally takes Luke fake retching or Ashton winking dramatically at him for it to stop.

Right now he isn’t made to stop. Luke’s in the seat behind them with Calum, and Ashton’s head is leant against the window, eyes constantly moving to keep up with the lights outside the window. From his position of his head pillowed against Ashton’s thigh, Michael can see his boyfriend’s face fully, the shadows of the streetlights passing over his cheekbones in flashes. Michael’s legs are curled up onto the seat, his seatbelt stretched vaguely around him in a very unsafe way that he knows he’d get bollocked for by security if they were with them.

But they’re not with them – there was a cock up with the cars ordered to the airport in Nagoya so the four boys are alone with the driver, just one of their security guards asleep in the front seat. The rest of their crew are in the car behind them. And Michael loves their crew normally, they all get on well but he gets fed up of having to pretend he and Ashton aren’t together sometimes.

Obviously it’s not like a _secret_ , as such – they’ve all seen the odd kiss here or there and the way Michael looks at Ashton is probably enough to out them to the world, but they agreed to not be obnoxious about it, keep it on the down low at least for a while. They’re yet to fully explain it to their families and _god_ , the fans would be a whole other can of worms.

So, it’s kind of a secret, but in the best kind of way. In the way that it’s exciting when they get to hold hands discretely in the back of the car, in the way that Ashton whispers obscene things in Michael’s ear when they’re having a backstage meeting and Michael has to play it off as nothing. In the way that Michael gets to hum All American Reject’s _Dirty Little Secret_ to himself and pretend he and Ash are in some angsty teen movie.

It works. He and Ashton, they work. It’s good, it’s comfortable and Michael’s heart feels completely full, like, all the time. He knows it’s reflected in the way that he’s performing, that he’s giving it his all because he knows his boyfriend, the love of his life, is on stage just behind him, egging him on and ready to give him a kiss at the end of the show. It’s great, and Michael’s so fucking happy.

The whole ride to the hotel they hold hands, Ashton occasionally dragging the back of Michael’s hand up to his face to kiss it. Michael keeps having to mentally pinch himself, remind himself this is real.

The hotel is gorgeous, not dissimilar to the one they stayed in last time they were in Tokyo and Michael smiles at the memory. He doesn’t know what it is about being in Japan, if it’s the culture or the fans or the food, but he just _fits._

The permanent smile hasn’t left his face since they landed and he can feel Ashton holding back laughter at how easy Michael is for Japan.

Of course they’re given separate rooms but Michael doesn’t so much as glimpse at his before he’s dragging his suitcase to Ashton’s room and unceremoniously dropping it right next to Ashton’s. The other boy is in the bathroom, probably already organising his toiletries like the domestic nerd he is so Michael chooses a side of the bed (naturally the one furthest from the door) and when Ashton returns Michael has already made himself comfortable, legs stretched across the bed and blue hair fanned across the pillow like a magazine shoot.

Ashton laughs.

“I guess this is my side then…” he jokes, climbing onto the bed and stroking Michael’s hair.

Michael hums, nuzzling his head into Ashton’s hand.

“You’re an actual cat.” He smiles, leaning down to kiss Michael’s cheek and then shuffling further till they’re lying side by side.

“You don’t like cats!” Michael retorts, smacking Ashton’s arm lightly when he mutters ‘never said I like you’.

Naturally, Michael soon finds his place curled up against Ashton, head on his chest, listening to the strong rhythmic heartbeat. It reminds Michael of Ashton’s drumming, of how he’s a force to be reckoned with. Unrelenting, ongoing, continuing through the toughest times.

 

∴

 

They go out for dinner all together, finally settling on a cute authentic Japanese restaurant that can accommodate a party of their size at such short notice. The culture here is so different and Michael really appreciates how respectful the fans are, how they’re able to go out for dinner without being stalked by paparazzi and fans desperate to take a photo of them. Of course he loves all their fans and he hates complaining about meeting them because they’re his favourite people on the planet, but occasionally it’s nice to be unknown for a while.

The dinner is good – banter levels are high and the food is amazing. Michael more and more finds himself having to pinch himself that life is this good, that he’s allowed to travel the world with his best friends and an amazing crew doing his dream job.

The night gets even better when Ashton’s hand finds his thigh underneath the table, squeezing gently and then moving up by half an inch, settling there purposefully. The older boy excuses himself to the toilet and Michael knows to leave it a minute or so until he follows.

The raised eyebrow look he gets from Calum makes him roll his eyes, knowing how indiscrete he and Ashton always are, but fuck it. Everyone at the table probably knows anyway so where’s the harm in a quick make out session in the toilets?

Except when he reaches the men’s bathroom, having used his broken Japanese to ask the waitress the directions and been told in English they were the first door on his left, the look on Ashton’s face doesn’t suggest a quickie against the locked door is what he’s after.

“What’s up?” Michael asks with a frown, confused at the look of nervousness on Ashton’s face.

“I just, um,” Ashton cuts himself off with a nervous laugh and Michael crowds into his space somewhat subconsciously.

“Hey,” Michael’s hands settle on Ashton’s hips and he squeezes gently. “Are you okay?”

Ashton pulls Michael into a hug, strong arms around his back holding him close.

“This is so stupid, but when I’m with you I sometimes have to catch my breath.” His voice is fond and Michael squeezes him but says nothing, willing for him to continue.

“I just wanted to, um, ask you out on a date?”

Michael steps back at that, one eyebrow raised in surprise at Ashton’s question, a smirk playing on his lips that he knows Ashton wants to roll his eyes at.

“Ash, you know we’ve been sleeping together for like two months now, right? And officially been dating for nearly as long? And you want to take me on a _date?_ ”

Ashton laughs but leans forward to kiss him on the cheek. Michael smiles at how the older boy has to lean up on his tiptoes slightly.

“Exactly.” Ashton says, as if that solves everything. “We’ve been together two months and I’ve not even taken you on a date yet?! My mother would be ashamed.”

Michael laughs again.

“Okay, okay fine. You can take me on a date. But for now I’m gonna suggest we get back out there before they all assume we’re fucking in the toilets.”

Ashton smirks, slapping Michael’s arse. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

 

∴

 

As dinner finishes and the bill has been paid, they all begin to leave the restaurant in drips and drabs, gathering to meet outside in the crisp night-time air. Michael pulls his beanie further down on his head as Ashton’s hand naturally falls to the small of his back, resting there as he speaks.

“Mike and I are gonna go and check out this ice cream parlour round the corner for some desert. We’ll catch you all tomorrow?”

He says it so matter of factly, no-one has much choice but to nod and bid their farewells. But Michael doesn’t miss the slight frown that crosses Calum’s face. He later realises it’s because they’d agreed to catch up with the finale of How to Get Away With Murder that night but Michael figures he and Cal can just watch it the next evening.

The ice cream parlour is amazing, despite Michael’s constant innuendos that when Ashton said they were going for dessert, this wasn’t quite what he imagined. The date is, of course, perfect, and Michael amazes himself at the butterflies he still gets in his stomach whenever Ashton’s hand covers his on the table.

They chat and laugh and feed each other ice cream until the manager politely tells them that the shop is closing. The taxi ride home consists of sneaking kisses and stolen glances and Michael climbs into bed, into Ashton’s arms, full and so so happy.

 

∴

 

When Michael wakes, Ashton is still peacefully sleeping beneath him. Michael’s head is pillowed on the warm chest and he burrows under the covers slightly, gently kissing the place between Ashton’s pecs.

The man beneath him stirs but Michael continues kissing his warm skin, pushing the duvet down as he kisses his way to the waistband of Ashton’s boxers. His fingers toy with the elastic, but then skip down his legs and trace the seam of the right leg, centimetres from where Ashton’s dick lies.

Ashton’s breathing shallows and Michael can tell he’ll wake up any minute. His fingers move to graze the other man’s dick through his boxers, lightly rubbing backwards and forwards over the head and he hears Ashton groan above him.

Michael looks up, feeling smug, and is met with Ashton’s mischievous grin.

“God, I love tour.” Ashton rasps, morning voice so sleepy and soft Michael can’t help leaning up to kiss him.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought you were with me solely for my blowjobs…” Michael whispers against his lips.

“Well…” Ashton considers, lengthening the word and laughing when Michael rolls his eyes. “You’re not too bad at massages either.”

Michael huffs, faux annoyed and tries to roll away but Ashton’s strong arms stop him, pulling the blue haired man on top of him so their bodies are completely lined up.

“I. Love. You.” Ashton punctuates each word with a kiss to Michael’s lips. “And yes you give incredible blowjobs but I love you for plenty of reasons other than that.”

Michael hums, as if he’s considering the truth of Ashton’s statement, but then he kisses the man’s jaw, whispering “I love you too.”

Ashton slap’s his arse.

“Now, sappiness over, as you were.”

So Michael returns to his original position, never one to turn down an order from Ashton, nor to turn down the chance to get his mouth on his boyfriend.

Giving blowjobs is on a par with receiving them, especially with Ashton, Michael thinks. He pulls Ashton’s boxers down and watches as his semi slaps against his stomach. The sight of it has Michael’s mouth watering and this doesn’t go unnoticed by the other man.

“You gonna put your mouth on me or are you just gonna stare at it?” Ashton remarks, eyebrow raised in expectation.

“Just admiring,” Michael says, and Ashton is about to counter with another sassy comment but then Michael is taking him into his mouth, just like, all of him, and Ashton is left speechless.

The blue haired boy feels smug, he hears the air push from Ashton’s lungs as he takes him further down his throat, not stopping until the head brushes against his gag reflex. He coughs, eyes beginning to water, and eases up a little. Wanking the part he can’t quite cover with his mouth, he begins a rhythm, bobbing backwards and forwards and letting his lips meet his fist.

The man above him unravels so quickly, and it is Michael’s favourite thing about having sex with Ashton. In general, Michael’s boyfriend is a man of control. He takes full responsibility and direction of everything in his life, but wrap a pair of lips around his dick and the man is rendered speechless.

Michael revels in the sounds falling from Ashton’s mouth, a mixture of expletives and breathy moans. It doesn’t take long before Ashton’s hands are threaded through blue hair, thigh’s shaking either side of Michael’s shoulders.

“God,” the blonde moans, one hand leaving Michael’s hair to thread through his own, tugging on the strands as his hips begin to buck up. “ _God_ , Mikey, you’re so fuckin go-od!”

His voice breaks on the last word as Michael shifts forward, the head of Ashton’s dick slipping into his throat. The sounds coming from Ashton’s mouth cease all together and Michael can tell he’s close.

Michael pushes down impossibly further and Ashton’s hands tighten in his hair, both a warning and a thank you and the blue haired boy hums in the back of his throat.

That’s all it takes, and then Ashton is coming, one hand leaving Michael’s hair to claw at his shoulder. He fills Michael’s mouth and the younger boy sucks him through it, licking and mouthing at Ashton’s dick until he’s being pulled away by big hands, dragging him back up his boyfriend’s body so the older man can kiss him.

They kiss filthily, Ashton tasting himself on Michael’s tongue as the older boy ruts against him. Ashton’s hands find Michael’s arse, dragging him in harder and faster, pushing his dick against his thigh to create the friction he knows Michael needs.

“Are you gonna come for me, babe?” He whispers, voice fucked out after his orgasm and Michael can’t help the whine that falls from his throat.

“I’ve barely even touched you and you’re so close already.”

He squeezes Michael’s arse harder, thumb pressing between the cheeks, roughly rubbing over his hole through his boxers.

“Gonna come in your boxers just from sucking my dick?”

Michael nods, eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched in concentration.

“C’mon, be a good boy, come for me.”

He comes with a grunt, riding out his high with a few more shifts of his hips until he’s collapsed on top of Ashton, smiling at the kisses being placed on his head.

 

∴

 

Ashton’s phone buzzes half an hour later, waking Michael from his post coital snooze against Ashton’s chest.

“Hey,” Ashton whispers, squeezing Michael tighter and kissing the top of his head.

“Hey yourself. Now go back to sleep, you’re comfy.” Michael hides his smile against Ashton’s skin, laughing as he feels Ashton’s chest shake with giggles.

“I gotta get up, Cal and I agreed to go for a jog. Unless you wanna join us…”

He bursts out laughing at the disgusted expression on Michael’s face. “Stop being gross and go jog so you can come back to bed sooner.”

It takes a few minutes to extract himself from the pouty boy but eventually Ashton is up and out of bed, stumbling around his room in the faint light from the window to pull on shorts and a jogging top.

“Go back to sleep, babe.”

He kisses Michael sweetly on the forehead before closing the door with a soft click behind him.

Later, Michael wishes he’d asked how long they’d be, because he’s bored and needs attention. He nearly debates pulling on some clothes and leaving the hotel but quickly decides against it, making a pillow fort and dragging his laptop out of his bag.

He plays games on his laptop for nearly two hours before caving and fumbling for his phone to text Ashton.

As he unlocks it, a text arrives and upon seeing the contact ‘Ash <3’, he feels himself smile. This soon turns to a pout as he reads the message.

‘Cal and I found a really cool museum, gonna stay here then grab some lunch if u wanna join?’

The next text is an address that Michael doesn’t even read, just responding ‘am happy in bed, have fun and see u later xx’

‘have a good day, babe xxx’

Even the third kiss he receives from Ashton doesn’t lighten his mood. He knows he doesn’t _own_ the older boy and they had no fixed plans for the day, but Michael had been kinda hoping for a chill day in bed with his boyfriend.

The thought that Ashton is choosing to spend his day off with Calum instead of him settles in the back of his mind briefly but he’s quick to shut the thought off, pushing it to the corner full of Awful Feelings he definitely should not think about.

 

∴

 

When the two return later, it’s full of stories and Polaroid pictures and Michael kicks himself for not going. He’s still kinda grumpy but Ashton pulls him into his chest the minute they sit on the sofa and Michael feels the cloud over his head dissipate at least a little. Calum hangs out in (his and) Ashton’s room for a bit and the three watch some anime on the hotel TV, bathing in the silence and calm that’s rare these days for them.

After a while they begin to discuss the tour, fears and hopes, worries about certain songs. Michael brings up how nervous he is to be the only one playing piano for broken home, not noticing the pointed look Calum and Ashton share.

He knows it’s a sensitive topic for Ashton, and often the older boy goes to Calum to discuss those instead of him. Michael can feel himself getting pouty and insecure about that fact, but he suppresses it, reminding himself that it’s good and healthy that his boyfriend has other close friends to confide in.

The topic swiftly changes to the other places in Japan they’re going, and Ashton pulls up a map on his phone that the three study. Calum and Ashton look at their calendars, planning and googling places to go and visit and Michael sits back, admiring the smiles on both their faces as they plan adventures. He smiles back when Ashton specifically suggests Michael should join them for at least some of the day trips.

The plan has been set for drinks and clubbing, and hounding from Calum and Ashton finally causes Michael to drag his sorry arse out of bed and into the shower. As he lathers his hair with the nice smelling shampoo the hotel provided them with, he thinks about the evening ahead.

The boys were right; it feels like they haven’t all been drunk together in ages. Maybe some drinks and not so discrete grinding with Ashton will fix the funk Michael’s put himself into. Nights out with the four of them are always a good laugh, Luke reliably drinking more than he can handle and flirting embarrassingly _at_ anyone within a four-foot radius.

By the time Michael’s done in the shower, he’s convinced himself that tonight is a great idea, and he bounds out of the bathroom to jump on his boyfriend. He’s taken aback when he sees that Ashton’s not in the comfortable position on the sofa anymore. The blonde boy is standing, arms crossed defensively in front of himself, staring at the open door.

“What’s, er…what’s going on? Where’s Cal?” Michael’s confused, surprised at how Ashton’s happy, excited behaviour from earlier has disappeared.

Ashton’s head snaps round to him, as if he wasn’t expecting Michael to still be in his room. Which – ouch.

“Ash?” There’s concern in Michael’s voice and it finally gets through to Ashton.

“Sorry. He, um, he left.”

Michael huffs out an awkward laugh, unsure of what to say. This is new territory, Calum and Ashton never argue, ever. Of the four of them, they’re the two that always have it together, always hash out any problems immediately and will never let the sun set on an argument.

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s, he’s…I think so.”

Michael opens his mouth to ask the inevitable, to ask whether Ashton thinks it’s about The Night™. The night in Bali that hasn’t been spoken about in weeks. But Ashton mutters something about having a quick shower so Michael stifles his words, instead pulling on some jeans and, once again, not talking about the elephant in the room that desperately needs talking about.

 

∴

 

Four beers and a few hours later, any altercation between Calum and Ashton has been forgotten. The four of them are squished around a small table in the corner of a bar. There’s a dance floor a few metres away and another one upstairs, and an apparent ‘bottomless free drinks’ rule that Michael is definitely appreciative of. They have a show tomorrow so they agreed to be careful – Ashton had made a point to declare if they matched each other they’d either all be fine or all suffer together.

But Michael didn’t have the large lunch the others had, and he barely ate any of his room service dinner either, so he’s definitely feeling it more than the others. The thrum of the alcohol in his veins always makes him feel so light, the ends of his fingertips feel slightly numb and he can’t stop heavily leaning against Ashton.

He also can’t stop admiring him either.

It’s just that Ashton drunk is really something remarkable. His cheeks are flushed and there’s permanently a smile on his face, giggles erupting from his chest continuously throughout the evening. Michael’s kind of in awe, just sits at the table staring at his boyfriend and it’s literally pathetic but he can’t help it.

At one point Ashton excuses himself to go to the bathroom and Michael slips lower in the booth without his support, pouting until strong arms heave him up and then he’s leaning against a different chest.

“Caaaal,” he whines, nuzzling into the brown boy’s chest and inhaling his scent deeply. They haven’t cuddled in ages, he realises, and is outraged at himself. Since the beginning of _time_ , he and Calum have always cuddled.

Luke rolls his eyes and sets off towards the bar for yet another drink.

“What is it, Mikey?” Calum replies, a hand carding through Michael’s blue hair.

“Don’t like it when you guys fight…” He mumbles into Calum’s chest. If he was slightly more sober he would’ve noticed the brown boy tense at his words, but as it is he continues pouting and waits for a response.

When there isn’t one he continues.

“What happened? Ash wouldn’t say.”

Calum sighs, big and deep in his chest and Michael feels it, cuddles into him further, showing him support.

“It was nothing. I just, I said something about-” He cuts himself off and Michael pulls back from his chest, shuffling until they’re staring straight at each other. Green eyes meet brown and Michael’s face is so close to Calum’s he can feel the warm air leaving the brown boy’s mouth.

“About…?” Michael whispers, scared if he speaks too loudly he’ll ruin the chances of Calum telling him.

Michael’s eyes flick to watch as Calum’s tongue wets his lips. They’re so thick and full, literally centimetres from Michael’s and suddenly he’s not so worried about knowing the answer to his question.

Bravely, he moves impossibly closer, nose rubbing against Calum’s and all he wants right now is to feel the other boy’s lips against his. He can feel the want surging through his veins, ignoring the tiny voice in the back of his head telling him its not normal to want your best friend this much.

“I…” Calum starts but is cut off immediately by Michael’s lips. The kiss is easy, comfortable, not that different to cuddling Calum, really. Michael has always admired the way Calum kisses; sweet, reassuringly, it’s like any worry Michael could possibly have had in his mind at that moment is completely gone.

He feels Calum’s hand move up to his face, lightly gripping his jaw, thumb stroking Michael’s cheekbone as he pulls away from the kiss.

“I, uh, I had a dream about you last night.” Calum whispers, cheeks blushing. Michael thinks he looks so cute, kind of similar to that puppy he saw yest-

“My dick was down your throat.”

Oh. Less like a puppy.

“You were so desperate for it, begged me to come on your face.”

More like some sexual deity.

Michael snaps out of his ridiculous thoughts. “Yeah?” He smirks, a hand slowly slipping down Calum’s chest. “And did you? Did I make you feel so good you came all over my face? Did I lick it all up?”

Calum whines low in the back of his throat and Michael kisses over his Adams apple, hand sliding lower until he’s gently stroking Calum’s dick through his jeans.

“Well, if I knew it was that kind of night I would’ve ordered us some shots.” Ashton’s voice shocks Michael back into like, real life. There are things happening around he and Calum, other people and music and wow, yes, his boyfriend.

“Ash, I, we-” He removes his hand and sits up straighter, preparing an apology.

“Did I tell you to stop?” Ashton huffs, sliding across the booth until he’s on Calum’s other side. “I think Cal was rather enjoying that.”

The oldest boy leans forward and kisses Calum, his right hand resting on Michael’s thigh. Reassuring, comforting, _Ashton._

Ten minutes later and they’re all panting hard, “We should probably stop fucking about in public.”

Michael whines but Ashton continues. “Seriously, like, Luke could be back any second.”

“I’m gonna go get another drink.” Calum coughs, his unsteadiness suggesting how not necessary that is. Neither of the two boys stop him, though, both know far too well how dangerous it is to come between Calum and his alcohol.

The brown boy leaves and Michael notices Ashton staring at him in a strange way. The older boy opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something but then he shuts it again.

Michael wants to ask what’s up, he knows that communication is key to a good relationship, but he’s also scared about what Ashton could say, scared that it might be about Calum, about how weird this thing is.

So instead, he kisses him. It works well, and within seconds Ashton is kissing him back, any thoughts of serious conversations gone.

 

∴

 

They’re all naked in record time, and Michael wonders whether it’s because marginally less alcohol has been consumed than last time. It’s also nice that they’re all so on board, there’s no coercing or encouraging happening, just three horny guys down to fuck.

Calum’s hardly taken his hands off of Michael, only to strip himself of his own clothes and help Ashton with his.

The brown boy is being extra needy tonight, but Michael is definitely not one to complain. He happily complies to all of Calum’s whines and pleas, biting at his neck and grabbing at his arse.

Ashton is complying too, more than happy to take the reins and direct Michael. They both know exactly how to make Calum tick, and it doesn’t take long before the brown boy is positively begging to be touched.

Ashton brandishes a bottle of lube that has come from absolutely fucking nowhere, and Michael is glad that his boyfriend is always so prepared.

The brown boy is loud as fuck as Ashton fingers him, the older boy commanding Michael kisses him to shut him up. Michael loves the way that Calum is gasping against his mouth, how he can tell when Ashton has added another finger by the shudder and noise in the back of his throat.

“He stretching you good?” Michael says, slipping straight into dirty talk and trying to get Calum back for the thing he started in the bar earlier.

The teasing goes unnoticed by Calum though, who’s started lifting himself up on his knees to fuck back down onto Ashton’s fingers. Michael would be jealous that the brown boy is getting all the attention but he looks so damn good, so wanton and unashamed, moaning loudly for more.

“Please, Ash.” He nearly screams, and Michael can relate. Ashton’s fingers are fucking heavenly, have had Michael sobbing at times.

“Want me to fuck you, Cal? Want me to stretch you out so you come on my dick?”

The noise Calum makes is so desperate, Michael feels his dick twitch.

“Can…I?” Michael hears Calum pant, reaching for Michael’s semi with the hand that isn’t holding himself up over Michael’s legs.

It doesn’t take long for Michael to start panting too, the grip Calum has on him is just right, flicking his thumb over the head. Michael’s amazed at his ability to keep a rhythm whilst Ashton’s fingers are still fucking into him, but he guesses it’s a rhythm-section-lyf thing.

Ashton must twist his fingers at the right angle because suddenly Calum is pitching forward, face pillowed on Michael’s thigh, hand stilling on his dick.

“Calum,” comes Ashton’s voice, stern and steady. Michael will always be in awe of how put together Ashton sounds during sex. Honestly, it’s a talent.

“If I fuck you, will you suck Michael off like a good boy?”

Calum whines against Michael’s pale thigh, nodding.

“Cal, words.” Ashton warns him, slapping his thigh lightly.

“Yeah, yes, I will. _Please._ ”

And honestly, the sound that Ashton punches out of Calum when he finally bottoms out is quite something, Michael kinda wishes he’d recorded it.

The brown boy is spread across the sheets, face in Michael’s crotch and arse in Ashton’s hands. The older boy has his fingers spread across Calum’s cheeks and Michael stops to take a mental picture of how beautiful they look together, how their skin tones look incredible, how there are paler patches of Calum’s arse where Ashton’s fingers are digging in.

“Feels so good, Cal.” Ashton moans, shifting forward that bit further.

Calum suddenly sits up like he’s remembered Michael is there, and he reaches for his dick once again, bringing it closer to his mouth so he can lick the tip.

He hums as he tastes the precome Michael has leaked and Ashton sighs happily behind him.

“Gonna make him feel good, Cal?”

Michael likes being talked about like he’s not there, the feeling building up in his stomach that Calum and Ashton could have a full conversation about him, about what they’re gonna do to him, and he’d just have to sit there and take it.

“Yeah.” Calum says, licking the tip again, his hand slowly reaching lower until he’s fondling Michael’s balls. “Want him to come in my mouth.”

Michael smirks, eyes meeting Ashton’s, and the twinkle within the hazel irises makes Michael feel even more special.

“Better get to work then, Cal.”

Ashton’s words spark a fire in him, and before long, Calum is alternating between fucking forward onto Michael’s dick, and backwards onto Ashton’s. As the older man gets closer to his release, Michael feels him beginning to push Calum further forward.

One particularly harsh thrust has Calum moving much further down Michael’s dick, the head slipping into his throat. Calum, to his credit, takes it like a champ, and Michael partly wants to congratulate him.

He’s far too busy trying not to come to do anything other than pet his hair, fingers threading through the locks as encouragement.

“Feels amazing, Cal. Such a good boy.”

He moans, and then Ashton grunts, huffing out words.

“He got tense as fuck when you said that. Didn’t realise our boy had such a thing for praise.”

Calum moans again, and Michael feels the vibrations around his dick sparking a tingling sensation all over his body.

“So good for us.” Ashton practically purrs, accompanying his words with a slap against Calum’s thigh again, and the brown boy arches his back further.

“Get so hot having both of our dicks in you? Filling you up?”

And fuck, Michael feels sorry for Calum, knowing that Ashton like this is Ashton on a roll. The blue haired boy estimates that Calum will be coming within minutes.

The brown boy nods his head, pulling off Michael’s dick to hiss a ‘yessss’. His hand continues his work, wanking Michael hard and fast, reducing him to a whimpering mess within seconds.

Ashton shifts a little, pulling Calum upright more and the new angle has him hitting the brown boy’s prostate on every thrust. His hand slows on Michael’s dick until the blue boy’s hand covers his, guiding his movements back to the fast pace.

Michael takes advantage of the new position, leaning up to mouth along Calum’s jaw, stopping next to his ear and whispering what a good boy he is.

One of Ashton’s hands moves to Michael’s shoulder, sweat clinging to the soft skin there as he pulls the blue haired boy closer, licking at his lips.

Michael is so glad for the intimacy of the moment, the reassurance from his boyfriend that he’s there, that he loves him. Ashton is always such a sucker for romantic gestures, and Michael has never appreciated them more.

He whispers a quiet ‘love you’ against Ashton’s lips, but is cut off by Calum moaning, _loud._

“I’m gonna, I’m, Ash _fuck,_ I’m…”

Calum comes like that, babbling and whining. To his credit, his hand continues its fast pace and Michael follows him soon after, grunting. Ashton fucks forwards once, twice, three more times and then he’s coming too.

They fall asleep in a naked pile, too spent to even grab a towel to clean up.

 

∴

 

It’s not until hours later that Michael remembers a conversation he and Ashton had in Bali. He can’t sleep, surrounded by the two boys, awoken by a nightmare and unable to fall back into the lull of slumber. Normally the sounds of the two boys sleeping would help, but the thought of the conversation has him restless.

Ashton had been so explicit, the first time they’d all done this. He’d whispered into his ear that fucking Michael was special. How that was _their_ thing, a thing Calum wouldn’t impede on.

It seems pathetic and he knows it’s nothing, knows that Ashton fucking Calum isn’t really any different to any of the other things he’s done to Calum. Sex is sex, after all, but for some reason, the thought won’t leave him.

What started out as a good idea has quickly sent him into a spiral of negative emotions. They’d suggested they would continue as normal, that it wouldn’t change anything between them. But here, in this bed in the middle of the night, he’s not sure how he’s meant to pretend that it hasn’t affected them.

So he knows he shouldn’t care, but he does.

 

∴

 

They spend a day being tourists, all four of them, visiting a castle and soaking up some Japanese history. It’s exciting and Michael finally begins to understand why Ashton is always trying to drag him to places.

Their cameraman comes with them and they all play up to the camera, messing around and bantering with each other in the way they do so well.

He’s missed hanging out the four of them, it’s so natural and wonderful to spend time with his bandmates, none of the strange feelings and sexual tension taking over. Things start to feel normal again and he convinces himself that they can do this, that he, Ashton and Calum can maintain their working relationship, maintain their friendships whilst messing around together.

 

∴

 

Tour starts with a bang, and Michael manages to forget everything that’s been going on when he’s on stage, singing songs that were written to be performed to thousands of people. Crowds in Japan are different, they’re quieter and more respectful, there’s less screaming and more focus on the music.

Michael’s favourite thing is how few phones are in the air during the show. He understands that fans want to record the shows and rewatch them at home, he totally gets that, but his favourite view from stage is a sea of faces, not a sea of iphones.

They play Broken Home. Seconds before they play it, Michael begins to wish they’d rehearsed it more. It had been a last minute addition to the set list and his solo piano performance is making him want to vom. He’s not felt this worried about playing an instrument since Luke suggested he play lead guitar in a youtube video back in 2011.

Michael looks over to Ashton for reassurance. The boy always makes Michael feel better, whenever they lock eyes on stage Ashton smiles and nods and sends Michael a ‘you got this’ look that always, without fail, makes everything seem a little brighter.

But Ashton hasn’t even glimpsed Michael’s way the whole show. The blue haired boy tells himself he’s just imagining it; there’s no reason Ashton should be angry with him. But now he thinks of it, Ashton was a little off during soundcheck, he wasn’t as bouncy and chatty as normal.

Michael hadn’t focussed much on it at the time, was too caught up in his head, and he’s beginning to feel bad. Maybe he should have checked in with Ashton, how the older boy always does for him.

He’s frustrated at himself and has to stop from crying out when he sees Ashton leave the stage as Luke introduces Broken Home.

 

∴

 

After the show, he tries to talk to Ashton, grabs him on the way to the car outside the arena but the older man mumbles that he’s tired.

When they get back to the hotel, Ashton is distant, on his phone a lot. He’d had a shower and is now lying on the bed, messing around on his phone and he still hasn’t uttered two words to Michael.

Michael tries again.

“I saw you left the stage during Broken Home…”

Ashton grunts, clearly not giving anything away.

“You know we wouldn’t have sung it if you didn’t want us to. It was completely up to you, and you seemed so chill I assumed you wouldn’t mind.”

“I didn’t _mind_ ,” Ashton replies bluntly, turning on his side so his back is to Michael. “Mike, I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Michael feels the rejection hit, makes him jerk back a little, as if Ashton physically hurled it at him.

“Okay.” He whispers, turning off the light.

He curls into himself and tries to ignore the light coming from Ashton’s phone as he messages someone. Someone he’s happy to talk to, _someone_ who he’s not freezing out…

In the back of his mind, Michael knows exactly who it is.

 

∴

 

The next morning Ashton apologises, wakes Michael up with a cup of coffee and soft forehead kisses. They’re okay, their relationship is strong enough to get through a fight and Michael knows that. They cuddle until they have to get up and shower to make van call.

Michael notes they don’t actually _talk_ about it though, just _around_ it. Whatever ‘it’ is.

They travel by bullet train to Osaka and Michael finds it refreshing to see Ashton excited and eager, always one to enjoy adventuring. Ashton opts to sit in a pair with Luke for the journey and Michael tries not to mind. The two sit with their headphones in not talking much anyway, so Michael assures himself it wasn’t a personal dig.

He and Calum mess around with the camera, laughing and causing havoc in their typical way and he feels any weirdness towards the brown boy disappear from his head. They’re just two best friends who fuck around and occasionally fuck. No biggie.

They watch old How I Met Your Mother reruns on Calum’s ipad and Michael falls asleep with his head on Calum’s shoulder. It all almost feels normal, and Michael revels in the feeling of having his best friend with him, no messy feelings involved.

The show in Osaka is just as awesome as the night before, all four of them can’t believe how dedicated the fans are, how they stand outside the arena afterwards for _hours,_ just to catch a glimpse of the band.

Michael can tell it’s going to be a good tour.

 

∴

 

By the time they arrive in Tokyo, Michael’s favourite city in the _world_ , things have settled down between the three of them. He and Calum are back to their friendly, slightly flirty banter, and Ashton is back to the loving, doting boyfriend he always has been. They hit up a recommended club after the show and none of them are disappointed.

After a few drinks, a box full of fancy dress in the corner of the bar seems like a must and before long Michael’s doubled over laughing at the sight of his bandmates, normally clad in black leather, wearing colourful cartoon style onesies.

Of course Ashton manages to stretch his leather jacket over the Olaf outfit he ends up in.

And he somehow looks amazing? Michael, there and then, decides Ashton would look good in anything. Literally, anything.

Too many drinks later, the three of them end up in bed together. Again. Luke called it a night when they returned from the bar, swaying and whistling Frozen songs as he made his way back to his hotel room.

Ashton suggests raiding the mini-bar, despite the fact none of them need any more alcohol, and before long they’re a pile of giggling limbs strewn across Ashton’s bed.

Michael’s lips end up just inches from Calum’s after collapsing onto the bed following a sick guitar solo, jump kicks and propeller arms and all.

Calum licks his lips and Michael follows the movement carefully, feeling Ashton stroking his thigh.

“Could honestly cut the sexual tension with a knife in here…” Ashton jokes and then Calum is on Michael, lips bruising as he kisses hard and fast.

Michael responds immediately, leaning further into the kiss until he hears Ashton moan beside them.

“You look so fucking good.” He’s already scrabbling at his jeans and Michael is definitely game for where this is heading.

 

∴

 

And that’s how it starts. What was once a one (or two) time, what-happens-in-Bali (and Nagoya), opportunist fuck becomes a regular thing.

And Michael’s totally fine with it. He loves having sex with his boyfriend, but he loves having sex with his boyfriend and his best friend more. Naturally, two sets of hands, two mouths, two dicks are better than one.

And it should be weird, but it’s not.

Until it is.

Michael wakes up in Jakarta, seven nights of touring done and he’s already starting to feel tired.

He’s distracted, however, by Ashton’s hot breath against his neck, lips leaving gentle kisses there as big hands stroke down his pale torso. He can feel Ashton’s dick against his hip and Michael can immediately tell what this is.

He laughs and clears his throat. “Does watching me sleep really get you this worked up?” He teases.

Ashton laughs, hands dipping lower until they’re toying with the waistband of Michael’s boxers as he pants against the blue haired boy’s jaw.

“Everything you do gets me worked up. It’s hard having such a gorgeous boyfriend.” His hands slip lower, “Really, _really…_ ” fingers beneath the boxers, “hard.”

His cool hand grips Michael’s warm cock and the boy jumps, feels his dick twitch as Ashton licks at his nipple.

It’s so easy to get lost in Ashton, lost in his eyes and his comforting skin and the delicious lick of his lips. Michael normally finds it easy to get lost in the safety of Ashton, in the passion in which he makes Michael feel good.

But for the first time in a while, Michael comes wishing there were another pair of hands on him, ones that come with warm brown eyes and dark, smooth skin.

He fakes a smile and ducks down under the duvet to return the favour, blaming the bitter taste in his mouth solely on Ashton’s come and not on the fact he nearly moaned another man’s name.

 

 

 

**II**

Calum wakes up in London feeling completely pumped. They’re about to play two nights at the _freaking O2_ arena and he feels like it’s a major milestone in their career. Checking his phone, he sees an array of ‘good luck for today’ messages from his family, his friends, and most importantly, Niall Horan.

He facetimes the blonde and they catch up briefly. Niall gives him some advice, mostly joking, but for thirty serious seconds he reminds Calum that the most important thing is to enjoy it.

And enjoy it he does.

Being back in London makes Calum so happy. They have a full tour across the UK lined up before they then head off across Europe, visiting cities they’ve never been to and getting to play to fans across the world.

They opened to UK tour last night in Sheffield and the show was a great success. The arena was small but so intimate and Calum can’t believe how good the songs all sound live.

They spend the morning at Radio One with Grimmy and Calum’s stomach hurts from laughing so much. He’s probably one of the best presenters/interviewers that they’ve come across as a band and he brings out the best in them. Calum forgets they’re live on the radio when it feels like he’s just chatting and laughing with some friends.

He does, however, notice how keen Michael is to sit next to him, racing Luke to the four chairs lined up and nuzzling into Calum’s side when he bags the one on the end next to the bassist. Calum fights back the warm feeling in the pit of his stomach when Michael keeps smiling at him throughout the interview and nudging him affectionately to get his attention.

The interview itself isn’t exactly great quality, sometimes Calum can’t believe their band even has fans??? Like they fucking perform a ‘dramatic reading’ of Pizza and he downright refuses to participate in it. He’s gotta keep some street cred.

They also talk a lot about soup and other dumb things but Calum mostly just sits back and sips his coffee, it’s pretty fucking early and he’s never been good with mornings. Luckily his band know that about him, so they mostly talk for him, although a few times Ashton makes a point to bring him into the conversation and he fights back another warm feeling in the pit of his stomach. He begins to wonder if his bandmates have always been this loving and caring, and whether he’s only just noticing it because of certain Emotions that he’s trying hard not to Emote.

The only tense part of the interview is when they get asked who last called who, and Calum can feel the jealousy coming off of Michael in waves when Luke says Ashton and the two have a moment. Normally Michael would laugh it off, jealousy amongst the band isn’t usually a thing because they’re all so close, but recently Michael’s seemed cagey whenever Ashton spends too much time with anyone.

Calum makes a mental note to not let slip just how much time he spent with Ashton over break. Selfishly, he’s enjoying having both Michael and Ashton want to spend time with him, but the sensible side of him knows they should probably all sit down and talk because he’s starting to wonder whether he’s actually _dating_ them or if this is all just one big drunken sexcapade…

There’s a joke about fanfiction and how the boys like to romance someone, and Calum has to hold back his indignant huff when both Michael and Ashton say that in reality they go to the club. Because it’s pretty brutally honest, that all romance is conducted through a club and alcohol and drunken decisions.

Always a recipe for disaster.

They take a car straight from the BBC studios to the venue and the van is full of whoops and cheers as they turn a corner onto the Greenwich peninsula – the O2 arena in the background. It dawns on them all what a milestone day this is and they all share a totally _bro_ style hug when get out of the van.

 

∴

 

The whole day is electric. It’s like everyone did a jaegerbomb with breakfast, the crew included. Set up takes ages, and the band join in, helping the sound technicians and pretending to understand how the lights are set up.

In the end they are politely asked to leave. Their helpfulness is appreciated but it ultimately slows down the process, especially with the banter that their presence brings.

Instead they chill backstage until soundcheck, dancing and singing and completely buzzing that they’re about to play the fucking o2 arena. Michael sets up a video game, of course, Luke chooses a playlist he’s made specially and Ashton pulls out a bottle of something potent and expensive, letting them all know he’s treating them to the very best for such a big day.

Calum notices a loving moment between Michael and Ashton as the older boy gives him his drink, Michael touches his face and Ashton leans into the touch meaningfully. It’s the first affectionate interaction Calum has seen between them in a while and he’s relieved, if a little jealous.

However, for the rest of the afternoon, Ashton is surprisingly clingy, hardly leaving Calum’s side the whole day. It’s nice, and Calum’s not exactly complaining, but he begins to worry if there’s trouble in paradise.

He knows that Ashton never fully told Michael about Broken Home, not in the way he’d confided in Calum, anyway. During tour rehearsals he’d come to the brown boy, near tears, one night, confessing that the song hit too close to home, made him feel _too much_ to have his face scrutinized by an entire crowd of people whilst it was played.

They’d stayed up for hours, talking it through, and Calum knows that for Ashton it wasn’t just talking about the song. The older boy had whispered some of his deepest secrets to Calum, early memories and nights spent feeling useless. Calum had known that the family stuff went deep with Ashton, having witnessed him close off one too many times whenever talk of parents comes up. But to hear the depth of it all, how bad it actually was, made Calum want to hold Ashton tight and never let him go. Instead, he hugged him, stroked a hand through the older boy’s hair, and let him know he’d never leave.

Ashton spent that night in Calum’s bed, curled up against the brown boy’s chest, hiding from the world (and his boyfriend).

Calum breached the Michael question the next morning, proposing that Ashton should tell him, but the older boy was reluctant and Calum didn’t want to push him. So he left it, trusting that the two would talk when they were ready. It wasn’t Calum’s place to get involved in their relationship.

(Maybe he should’ve thought about that before he, y’know, got involved in their relationship. He laughs at the irony.)

Ever since that day, Ashton has taken to confiding in Calum. It’s not even just the secrets though, Calum can tell that Ashton’s having a bad day when he won’t leave his side. It’s flattering, that he knows Calum will always do everything in his power to make his best friend feel better, but it worries Calum a little too.

Ashton is always so positive, always keeps everything together and doesn’t really let his emotions show. Calum knows it’s bad when Ashton is this open about it, willing to talk and let Calum in.

They spent nearly every day of the break after Asia together, and slowly Calum felt Ashton healing again, feeling happier in himself. Working in the studio always seems to sort his head out, and Calum hasn’t heard the song he and Luke put together in their few weeks off but Luke’s insinuated it’s bloody good.

 

∴

 

Ashton’s mood lifts as the day goes on, the excitement of the show finally hitting him and distracting him from his thoughts.

Calum is relieved.

He’s less relieved, though, when Ashton’s good mood leads to a “trip down memory lane” as Ashton always refers to it, dragging up all the old tweets, photos and keeks (RIP) from the last time they’d played the venue. It was during the Take Me Home tour, supporting One Direction and they’d played a string of sold out nights at the venue.

Normally he would join Luke in his eye rolling and teasing Ashton, but today he feels he should indulge. So he sits with the older boy, laughing at their old content and trying not to cringe too hard at videos of him singing the wrong words in nearly all their songs. Ashton is like their own personal timehop dinosaur, dragging out the good, bad, and ugly.

Secretly, it’s actually kinda awesome to see how far they’ve come, how the fan videos from 2013 show the crowd barely knowing their lyrics, only screaming when One Direction are mentioned. Compared to tonight, when their songs will be sung back by every single person in the room, it’s pretty incredible.

He even indulges Ashton in recreating a band photo, coercing Luke and Michael to join in. They pose in a similar way to three years ago, in a random corridor backstage.

Of course, Ashton posts the photo in a collage with the original, the caption ‘three years later’ likely to make fans sob in the comments. Calum’s already awaiting a sappy text from his sister about it.

The show is, of course, in-fucking-credible. Calum’s always admired UK crowds and the energy they bring to the room, it’s infectious and make the band perform at their very best. They leave the stage on a complete high and the best part is that they get to do it all again the next night too.

 

∴

 

When Calum’s eyes flutter open it takes him a moment or two to recognise his surroundings. Despite having slept in this room for two nights, he still squints at the cloudy sky outside, London’s dreary skyline in the distance.

His head is pounding, a typical occurrence following a night in England’s capital city, home to some of his favourite people (and beers).

He shoves his face further into his pillow, a sinking feeling that they have to be back on the bus in an hour to get to the next show. Reaching blindly for his phone, he somehow grapples for it and is met with a text from Michael. It’s just lots of heart emojis, sent at four a.m, standard for the boy when he’s got some alcohol in him.

The text reminds Calum of a vague memory of the night before, Michael’s face serious, eyebrows pulled together and beautiful lips nearly pouting. If Calum concentrates he can almost hear the words fall from Michael’s lips.

_“I’m worried about Ashton, I think we should talk.”_

_Calum nods dumbly (quite frankly he’d have agreed to rob a bank if Michael asked him at that point), and Michael drags him into the smoking area where they can actually hear each other._

_“Is it about, um, me? Us?” Calum nods towards the door of the club, where Luke and Ashton are at the bar, ordering them all a round of drinks. Calum kind of wishes he’d accepted Luke’s offer to go with them._

_“Yeah,” came Michael’s reply, a hint of nervousness in his tone. “I think we should, like, stop.” He swallows and then takes a deep breath, “I thi-”_

_“Shouldn’t Ashton be here for this?” Calum interrupts, feeling suddenly nervous too. He doesn’t know much about three way friends with benefits relationships but he’s pretty sure all parties should be involved when any major discussions occur._

_“He’s my boyfriend.” Michael had snapped, seemingly from nowhere._

Calum cringes at the memory, wants to burrow underneath his pillow so he doesn’t have to think about it anymore. But he can’t, it’s there, in the forefront of his mind, automatically playing like a fucking Netflix episode.

 _“Shit, I didn’t mean it like_ my _boyfriend. Cal, I mean like, fuck,” He sighs, a hand running through his hair and tugging on the ends harshly. Normally Calum would push his hand away, tell him not to hurt himself, but right now he feels kind of numb. “I mean like, he’s my boyfriend and I don’t think…”_

_“Don’t think, what?” He spits back. “Don’t think that I should be joining in the fun anymore? What, you’re bored of me?”_

_He’s not normally one to get angry when drunk, hate hates_ hates _shouting at Michael, but this conversation has hit a nerve and he can feel the rage building inside of him._

_How fucking dare Michael be such a coward he chooses to do this now, of all times._

_“I’m too drunk for this, Mike, God. Couldn’t we have discussed this sober? In the daylight? What were you thinking?! Jesus. I’m gonna…” He points behind himself and is about to turn around when Michael’s desperate voice calls for him._

_“Calum, I’m sorry. I just, I can’t lose him. It’s…”_

_But Calum walks away before he hears the end of the sentence, stumbling and tripping over with tears in his eyes._

At that point he’s pretty sure Luke had found him, two strong hands on Calum’s shoulders, suggesting they should head back to the hotel. He vaguely remembers hearing Ashton’s confused voice in the background but Luke was insistent.

Calum cringes harder when he opens his text thread with Ashton, five unanswered messages from the blonde boy asking if he was okay and if he’d seen Michael. He decisively ignores them, the thought of Michael reading any response over Ashton’s shoulder makes him panic.

He types out a ‘can we talk on the bus? Xx’ to Michael and his thumb hovers over the send button for a second. It’s unlike him to be so confrontational, but he’s been reading the mindfulness book Mali got him for his birthday and it suggests like, actually dealing with problems, so.

He takes a deep breath and presses send, then scrolls through twitter aimlessly until his phone buzzes. He anticipates a message from Michael but instead it’s a text from their tour manager, warning them that bus call is in thirty.

A quick glance at his conversation with Michael and Calum sees a distinctive ‘read at 10.58’, with no reply. He pretends that doesn’t hurt as much as it does and jumps in the shower, washing away the hangover and any rejected thoughts.

Packing doesn’t take long, is mostly just throwing clothes in to a suitcase without any rhyme or reason. They’ve all become so accustomed to this, not much time for folding clothes when you’re on the road and everything in your suitcase has developed that standard ‘tour’ smell, which predominantly consists of J.D and sweat.

Another glimpse at his phone shows no new messages, but the time suggests he should get going. One quick glance around the room and he’s leaving, empty phone in his pocket, heavy suitcase in his hand and a heavier heart in his chest.

(He writes that lyric in his song book a few hours later).

 

∴

 

Getting out of London takes ages, the driver had warned them the traffic would be bad at this time, and he was not wrong.

Calum’s bundled up in the back lounge, staring out the window. He can feel Luke’s worried glances every so often, but Calum insists he’s fine. He knows they should discuss last night, that Luke must be full of hundreds of questions about Calum’s hasty exit from the club, and the tears (he will deny) as Luke put him to bed.

But Calum ignores it all, trying to ignore the disgusting love fest that is going on in front of him. The lovebirds can’t keep their hands off of each other, Michael’s legs strewn across Ashton’s as they giggle at YouTube videos, occasionally taking a break to stare lovingly into each other’s eyes. They’re probably partly laughing at Calum, Michael telling Ashton about the stupid face Calum pulled when he realised Michael was ending it.

Calum feels the contents of his stomach shift and he rushes to the bathroom, just making it to the tiny room before throwing up and feeling worse than he has in a while. Funnily enough it has little to do with the pile of sick in the toilet.

When Michael finds him an hour later, he’s curled in his bunk with his song book in his hand, scribbling words and sentences on to the page so ferociously he’s surprised the paper hasn’t ripped.

“I don’t know whether to be worried that you’re so low or relieved we might finally have some more songs to release.”

He attempts to crack a joke but Calum grunts, curling further in on himself.

“Do you wanna talk?”

Calum huffs.

“Okay fine, do you wanna nap with me?”

And at that, Calum can’t control his anger. He’s hungover and sick and clearly wants to be left alone but Michael won’t leave him be. It’s like their conversation in the club didn’t even happen, like Michael didn’t tell Calum to back off from his boyfriend.

“Why don’t you go and nap with _Ashton_?”

He regrets it the minute he says it but it works, he feels Michael’s sharp intake of breath and then he retreats, closing the curtain to Calum’s bunk and letting him grump in peace.

And that he does, grumps in his bunk, running through the night before in his head. The way Michael had been all over him, running his hands through his hair and trying to grind against him at the bar. The soft sigh he gave into Calum’s ear when the brown boy finally allowed him to sit on his lap, the giggle when Calum knocked some of his own beer over himself. And then, suddenly, the change, the conversation that was like a slap to Calum’s face.

He’d known he was maybe like, getting a bit too invested in it, but it’s pretty fucking hard not to when you’re messing around with your best friends. They’d all known it was a dangerous game to play, but they’d all gone along with it, far too happy in their ignorant (and post-coital) bliss to admit they should’ve been careful.

And it’s fine for Michael, right? Fine for him to just push Calum away, say he doesn’t want him anymore, because he’s got a _boyfriend_ to love him, to hug him and tell him it’ll get better.

Calum’s not really got anyone.

Of course Michael was always all over him when he’s drunk, that was kind of their agreement. Which is totally fine, Calum’s done that before, understands the ease of getting off with someone who knows you, someone who won’t leak any photos to the press, or tell the world you’re into guys.

But somewhere along the way, Calum thinks he got a little lost. The easy, convenient sex with his friends became wanting to spend every second together, it became jealous glances and bitter resentment. And for a stupid second he allowed himself to believe it was reciprocated, that it was more than sex for them too.

But why would it be, they have each other. They’re in a happy, healthy relationship together and probably don’t really care for his clinginess or emotions. Why would either of them want someone to _talk_ to or cuddle at night when they have each other?

The worst part is, he just really really needs someone to talk to about all of this, and the two people he’d typically discuss it with are the two people he definitely can’t discuss it with. For a split second he considers talking to Luke but he nearly laughs at the idea, wondering just how Luke would feel when Calum tells him about the stupid situation he’s gotten himself into.

He settles on ringing Mali, maybe not even to unload his problems onto, but he figures it’ll be nice to hear a comforting voice.

Calum opens his phone, sending his a quick ‘are you free?’ but she replies immediately saying she’s in the studio and they’ll catch up later.

He closes his song book dejectedly and falls asleep to the comforting rhythm of the road beneath the wheels of the tour bus.

 

∴

 

Calum’s woken by Luke softly shaking his shoulder.

“Cal, we’re nearly in Brighton. About fifteen minutes from the venue, but come, look at the view!”

The childlike cheer in Luke’s voice is enough to convince Calum, and he swings out of bed feeling refreshed after his sleep. Luke’s brought him a coffee, with two sugars just how he likes it, and even the sight of Michael and Ashton curled up together on the sofa doesn’t get Calum down.

The view out of the bus window is breath taking. They’re driving along a road that runs parallel to the edge of the cliffs, ahead he can see the beautiful white stone rocks, and to the left there’s shining, glittery ocean as far as the eye can see.

Luke explains that the driver announced they’d take the scenic route, and Calum even manages to crack a joke about Long Way Home. He leans his head against the cold window and takes in the scenery, deciding life isn’t so bad and that he can totally deal with a weird, semi rejection from his friends whom he’s kind of developed boyfriend like feelings for.

Everything is totally fine.

And his act works for a while, he settles into the back stage room they’re given, giving a tour to the camera and messing around on Ashton’s drums. He convinces himself that putting on a brave face is a good way to go about things and is amazed at how it cheers him up.

They make it through real soundcheck okay and the boys sit backstage in the dressing room watching How I Met Your Mother on Luke’s laptop until they hear cheering and someone comes in to tell them that fan soundcheck is about to begin.

Calum’s excited – he loves interacting with fans, nothing distracts him more from his own pathetic life than hearing questions from his favourite people in the world. (They also have awesome accents in England and he enjoys that, too).

Before they walk out on stage, Ashton pulls him into a hug and he breathes in the familiar scent deeply.

“Let’s hang after the show?”

Calum feels himself nodding, has a feeling Ashton might break up with him too. And really, who needs not-even-real-breaking up with twice within twenty-four hours?

At least maybe Ashton will give him a pity cuddle afterwards.

 

∴

 

He makes a point to sit beside Ashton in soundcheck. It feels good to have the solid presence of his best friend beside him and every time he’s quiet for a while he feels Ashton’s hand lightly on the small of his back.

It’s pretty pathetic how much he wants to curl up into the older man and be held, how much he wants someone else’s boyfriend to be his own.

But he also wants that someone else to be his own too.

A fan makes a joke about ‘Malum’ but Calum doesn’t even look up, a huff falling from his lips as he fiddles with a piece of thread hanging off his sleeve. He can feel Michael’s eyes boring into the side of his head. He has probably noticed Ashton’s hand against Calum’s back but the brown boy fights the feeling to look back, instead pushing back slightly into Ashton’s hold so Michael can see what’s happening.

 _Let him._ A part of Calum thinks. _Let him see that Ashton’s choosing to comfort me, let him see I’m not the only one invested here._

Another part of him wants to climb into Michael’s lap, apologise for how weird he’s making things, for liking his boyfriend, for liking him.

God, his head is such a mess he doesn’t even understand how he remembers the words to any song during soundcheck.

The others are cracking lame jokes and he tries to focus on a girl in the front row whose eyes sparkle every time she laughs, but all it does is remind him of someone else he knows with sparkley eyes and a beautiful laugh and he ends up feeling guilty again.

 

∴

 

The night goes on without any problems, they manage to pull off a good show despite how disjointed the band is and Calum never really understands how they do it. But they do.

The crowd is extra wild tonight, it’s strange considering they just played two shows at the O2 area, but this one is much smaller and it’s better, more intimate, Calum likes the change. Even the fans right at the back of the seats aren’t too far away, and he can make out pretty much every single fan dancing and singing to their songs.

It reminds him of why he’s here, why he agreed to be in a band, tour the world, move away from his parents. The music, the feeling of the bass thrumming through his veins, the look of pure joy on the fans’ faces. It makes it all worth it, makes him forget the icky gross feelings inside his head and heart.

 

∴

 

The show ends and Calum can’t wait to get back on the bus, sleep the whole journey back to London and pointedly ignore the rest of his band. He’s offered a beer backstage by one of the crew, they’re all celebrating being a certain number of shows down (he lost count around 13).

He refuses the drink, knowing alcohol will just make him feel worse, and heads straight to the tour bus. Despite not caring about them, Calum expects the rest of his band to follow him on to the bus, but they don’t.

He’s left alone for nearly fifteen minutes, stewing in his own thoughts, ignoring the screams of fans from outside the bus. He just wants to be in a hotel room, far, far away from here.

The disappointed look Michael gave him during soundcheck keeps appearing in his head and he’s beginning to feel more and more guilty. He’s contemplating banging his head against the window of the bus when one of their security guards appears in the hallway, a tired look on his face.

“Boss says we’re staying another hour.” He announces, looking as annoyed as Calum feels. “There’s been an accident on one of the roads so the driver has suggested sticking around for a bit. Besides, we’re pretty much blocked in by fans so I’m not sure he’d be able to reverse out of here if he tried…”

Calum attempts a strained laugh.

“Any idea where my bandmates are?” He tries for normal but thinks he ends up sounding more like needy than anything else.

“I think they’re still in the venue. We can go back in if you want?” He gestures to the door and Calum hears some of the fans calling his name outside. He feels bad but he just can’t deal with having to socialise right now.

“It’s okay, thanks, I’ll just stay here.”

The security guard smiles. “Alright buddy, I’ll be outside having a fag if you need me.”

Calum offers him a smile and gets up to make himself a cup of green tea. He tries not to lament that if Ashton was here he’d be making it for him, with the perfect amount of honey.

He caves and texts the older boy, ‘am free for that chat when u are’, and when it’s unopened four minutes later, he sends another ‘I’m on the bus x’.

Feeling rejected over text for the second time that day, he settles back into the couch with his mug and opens twitter, liking and replying to a bunch of fans and admiring their photos from the evening. Some of them are better than the professional photographers and he takes the time to save his favourites.

(Most of which are of his bandmates, not himself, but he overlooks that fact.)

He receives no texts and eventually decides to put his phone on airplane, reaching for his song book instead and writing down the first few things that come to mind. He tunes out the excited chatter of the fans outside the bus and tunes into the crashing of waves in the distance. The pen scribbles down his words almost faster than he processes them, and before he knows it, Calum’s written a coherent-ish stream of words about falling in love and falling apart, that actually sound poetic and could nearly constitute a new song.

He nearly laughs at the thought of showing it to his bandmates.

Eventually Luke ambles onto the bus, sitting so close to Calum he’s basically on his lap. The blonde reaches for Calum’s notebook and the brown boy panics, snapping it shut and trying to fight the blush on his face.

“What are you being so secretive about? Writing racy stories about your bandmates?”

Luke’s teasing tone makes Calum huff out a laugh. If only Luke knew that the things written within that book were significantly more incriminating than just some fanfiction.

“It’s just, stuff.” He waves his hand, trying to wave off Luke’s inquisitiveness as well as his words but it doesn’t work.

Luke frowns. “Hey, you always show me your lyrics, even when they’re kinda shit.”

Calum punches his arm lightly.

“No but, c’mon. Remember that time you wrote a song about falling in love with the girl who made you a smoothie in L.A.”

Calum sits up at that, a finger pointing accusingly at Luke. “Hey, that was the best damn smoothie I’ve ever had and it was sold to me with excellent customer service! I still say we should put the song on an EP.”

Luke throws his head back and laughs, the cackle that Calum loves so much, and Calum settles into his side, grasping at his waist and proposing an impromptu cuddle.

Luke’s laughter dies down and an arm falls over Calum’s shoulders.

“You can always talk to me, y’know, Cal. I hate the thought of you stewing in your own thoughts.”

Calum nods and Luke feels it against his chest.

“Love you.” He mumbles and Luke squeezes him tighter. The blonde knows that’s his cue to shutup, if Calum wants to talk, he will.

They remain cuddled together on the sofa for a while, watching vine compilations and talking about nothing until Michael appears, asking where Ashton is.

Luke frowns, tensing up a little against Calum.

“I assumed you were together?”

Michael says nothing, eyes falling on Calum somewhat accusingly but the brown boy turns his head, burrowing into Luke’s shoulder instead of facing Michael.

“No.” Michael says, and even from his place against Luke’s jumper, Calum can feel the word aimed at him, cutting through layers of skin and poking at his heart.

Michael goes to his bunk, muttering a vague ‘goodnight’ that’s clearly more to Luke than Calum and the brown boy sighs. He pulls out his phone and messages Ashton again.

‘where u at?’ The message turns straight to _read_ but no bubble appears and Calum locks his phone.

“Should I be worried about him too?” Luke asks, voice light and jokey but Calum can hear the worry beneath it.

“He’s probably just making friends with the staff in the venue or something, you know what he’s like.” Calum’s not sure who he’s trying to convince more, Luke or himself.

 

∴

 

An hour later, it’s nearing midnight and Calum’s eyes are beginning to droop, not even a dramatic show on Netflix keeping him awake. The fans outside have diminished to a few dedicated (and quite frankly insane) people and Luke has retired to his bunk.

Calum hears the bus door open and close and then a quiet thump and a whispered expletive. He leans forward from his place on the couch to see Ashton sneaking down the hall, hands poised either side of his body to catch himself in case he falls.

“Ash?” When the older boy hears Calum’s voice he freezes, like he’s in an action film and has been caught about to steal the crown jewels or something.

“Where the hell have you been?” Calum cringes when he sounds like his mother, scolding Ashton for being out late.

“In a bar.” The response is short and clipped and Calum’s slightly confused what he did to deserve that.

“Oh. Do you want some tea?” He points towards the kettle, pushing himself up from the sofa to put it on.

The engine starts up beneath their feet and Calum feels the bus begin to move.

Ashton watches him warily and Calum hates the silence. “Were you in the bar alone?”

The further silence says it all. Calum sighs.

“I thought you wanted to talk to me. Thought we’d actually discuss all of this, this _shit_ , instead of just getting drunk and ignoring it.”

Ashton takes the mug from Calum and walks to the back lounge, collapsing onto a sofa with a sigh. Calum takes it as an invite and follows him.

The brown boy presses a button and the door to the lounge slides shut, giving them at least a little privacy.

“I’m worried about Michael.” Ashton finally gets out and Calum sighs again.

“He’s like, being weird with me and I’m concerned. Ever since we, _y’know_ ,” he gestures between him and Calum, and the brown boy can feel a bitter taste of guilt rise in his mouth.

Ashton continues. “He’s so distant and pushing me away all the time, then tells me he’s worried we’re not as close as we used to be. I feel like I’ve fucked it.”

Calum looks up and sees tears glinting in Ashton’s eyes.

“Ash, you didn’t, you haven’t. If anything, _I’ve_ fucked it up.”

Ashton’s head snaps up, shaking hard. “You didn’t, yo-”

Calum interrupts him. “Michael told me as much last night.”

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it.” Ashton’s voice rises a little, and Calum remembers he’s been drinking.

“He did, suggested we should stop.”

Ashton sighs, resigned, all anger gone.

“I don’t want that.” He whispers, looking up suddenly and locking eyes with Calum.

It takes everything in Calum to not say it back, to not grab Ashton’s hand and squeal with joy that his feelings are at least somewhat reciprocated.

“I think, maybe, it’s for the best.”

Ashton makes a small noise in the back of his throat and Calum wants to take it back, wants to tell him he’s in love with him, tell him they’ll find a way to make it work.

But he can’t. He thinks back to Michael’s face when he spoke to Calum earlier, the spiteful tone and Calum can’t deal with the guilt any longer, can’t cope with the fact he’s ruined a once happy relationship.

Calum stands up, opens his mouth to suggest they both get to bed, forget about the conversation, move on. But then Ashton’s on him. The older boy throws himself at Calum with such force he staggers backwards slightly, brain slowly realising that Ashton’s lips are on his.

Calum gasps into the kiss, hands settling on Ashton’s waist as he kisses him back with the same amount of force. It’s bruising and filthy and Calum doesn’t want it to ever end.

Ashton’s hands slowly cup Calum’s face and his lips begin to slow, the kiss turning tender. Calum feels Ashton’s tongue slip into his mouth, along with a multitude of feelings and confessions and Calum’s legs begin to feel like jelly.

He grips at Ashton’s waist and pulls him tighter against him in retaliation and Calum feels the older man’s breath hitch. They kiss until Calum’s pretty sure he’s run out of air in his lungs and Ashton pulls back just slightly, forehead against Calum’s as he pants.

Calum’s brain catches up to him and he tenses immediately.

“Fuck. We shouldn’t, that, oh _god_.”

He takes a step back and Ashton shivers, eyes closing and hand covering his face.

“Ash, please say something.”

The older man just shakes his head.

They stand there in silence for a few seconds, Calum holding his breath, waiting for Ashton to say something. Finally, he does.

“I’m going to bed.”

He slaps the button to the lounge door with as much force as possible and walks down the hall, kicking his shoes off before climbing into a bunk.

Calum notices it’s Michael’s.

 

∴

 

He wakes an hour later to the sound of hushed arguing but puts his headphones in and goes back to sleep. He tries to ignore the fact that when he gets up the next morning he finds Ashton asleep on the sofa instead of in Michael’s bunk.

 

∴

 

The next show is Leeds and it goes relatively well, Michael seems a little off and Ashton messes up his drum solo at one point but it goes unnoticed.

After the show they all go straight to the hotel and don’t speak much.

Calum blames it on tour blues, they’re all starting to feel the exhaustion and could do with a decent night’s sleep.

Deep down he knows that that’s not the real reason, that the main explanation for the awkward silences is something that Calum can’t mention, won’t mention.

Nottingham, Birmingham, Cardiff, Newcastle. They all fly by in a mess and before Calum knows it they’re in Glasgow, three cities away from the end of UK tour and a small break before they play in Europe.

 

∴

 

Calum’s barely seen Ashton, they haven’t as much as uttered two words to each other and Calum knows Luke is concerned.

Michael is even worse, completely quiet all the time and zoning out constantly whenever there’s a conversation for more than two minutes. Luke tries to be the glue, constantly zipping from band member to band member, faking enough energy for the four of them put together, but even Calum can tell it won’t be long before they all crash and burn.

And he feels responsible.

He speaks to Mali on the phone just before they go on stage and she can tell something is wrong. He fakes normality for a good ten minutes before she straight out asks him what’s wrong.

“Nothing, I’m fine. Just wanted a chat.”

She sighs on the other line and Calum smiles when he can picture her rolling her eyes in that all-knowing-big-sister way she does.

“I’ve known you your whole life, Cal, and I know when to call bullshit.”

“Mal, honestly, it’s just tour stuff.”

She hums and Calum hears her shuffling around.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Calum considers it, considers sitting down and admitting to Mali what a fucking idiot he’s been, they’ve all been. He thinks about how he’d react if someone said it to him, that they’d been dumb enough to get sexually involved with their best friends who are already in a relationship and are also their bandmates and then accidentally fall in love with them both and ruin the relationship between the two of them and _then_ secretly kiss one of them without the other knowing.

Funnily enough, he decides to go for a slightly more PG version.

“Michael’s mad at me.” He says, a full pout on his face and he feels every bit as ‘year 4’ as he feels.

“Oh, Cal. You know how he gets, you can fix it.”

“No, Mali, like, it’s bad.”

“Have you spoken to Ash?”

Calum has to try to not choke on his water. “Why would I speak to him?” If Mali notices his strangely defensive tone, she doesn’t call him out on it.

“He always knows what to say, always gives the best advice, I seem to remember.”

“Mmm, he’s, uh, he’s kinda mad at me too. I’m pretty sure they both hate me right now.”

“Calum, they’re your brothers! How could they hate you?!”

Calum cringes at the word ‘brothers’, feeling worse and worse. He sinks lower on the bench he’s found out the back of the venue.

“Listen, Cal, I don’t know what happened, but I do know them both, and I know that they both love you very, very much. You could probably leave the band and neither of them would hate you. So just talk to them, yeah? I know you’re not as good with words as me, I got all the chatting talent in this fami-”

“Yeah, chatting shit.” Calum hears Mali laugh with him and his heart feels lighter.

“Oh shut it, bro. Do you want my advice or not?! Talk to them, or if you can’t? Sing to them. You’re not too bad at that I guess.”

“Thanks, Mal.”

“Anytime, babe. You know I love you.”

“You too. Bye.”

He hangs up and for the first time in a while, he feels a genuine smile on his face.

 

∴

 

Just before they go on stage, Calum gets a text from Mali with the arm muscle emoji and ‘love u _Teina_ ’. It’s the Maori word for ‘brother’ and it’s been a while since Calum’s heard it. It reminds him of home and his mum and he fights back tears, willing himself to take the emotion and use it on stage.

He sees Ashton eyeing him from the other side of the dressing room and Calum can tell he’s worried about him. Even after everything, the other man still cares.

God, no wonder Calum kinda loves him.

 

∴

 

The show goes on, as always, and they somehow manage to pull it off despite the fact that three quarters of the band aren’t talking. It’s slightly disjointed in parts, moments of forced laughter and awkward pauses between chats but Calum thinks they manage to disguise it well enough that the fans don’t notice.

As Jet Black Heart begins, Calum settles in darkness, leaning against the block Ashton’s on. The smoke machines are going and the crowd settles, just a blue light on Michael.

He begins to sing, the words that come from the depths of his brain, the ones he doesn’t let out very often. Calum gets goosebumps, the same as he does every single night they perform. It’s the way Michael throws his heart and soul into the song, he lets every single emotion pour out in a way that makes him so vulnerable. Calum has always admired it.

And every single night, Calum has to fight the urge to approach him on stage, to pull Michael into his arms and make sure he never feels that way again. Tonight, though, the urge is especially strong.

Michael’s voice is _heartbreaking,_ the knowledge that the emotions are partially Calum’s fault makes him want to cry. And when Michael’s voice breaks on ‘I’m the one who ends up leaving’, he doesn’t manage to recover for the rest of the verse.

Calum panics, looking around at locking eyes with Luke. He can feel Ashton’s eyes boring into the back of his head too, but he fights the urge to look at him too. Right now is about Michael, and getting his own feelings mixed in won’t help.

Thank god, Michael recovers it, and manages to complete the solo. They play the song and it’s filled with as much energy as normal, as well as worried glances Michael’s way from all three band members.

After the show, the green room is eerily quiet, a definite lack of screaming and shouting, and Calum can immediately tell it’s because Michael is sitting silently on his phone instead of causing his normal havoc. Ashton is elsewhere, and Luke shares a ‘we need to fucking talk’ look with Calum.

Calum does his best to avoid Luke for a short while, hanging out with the guitar techs and annoying Zoe, the tour mum, until he can’t any longer and they’re called to get in the car.

Michael is already in the car by the time Calum has grabbed his bag and headed to the back of the venue. The boy is sat in the back corner staring out the window and he flinches slightly when he hears Luke and Calum climb in. Luke gives Calum a long look and the brown boy concedes, shuffling to sit next to Michael.

He tentatively places a hand on Michael’s knee and pats it gently. He gets a small, fake smile for his efforts but then the boy is turning back towards the window and Calum knows it’s useless.

 

∴

 

Arriving at the hotel, Calum just wants to climb into bed and forget about everything, but as they leave the lift and walk towards their respective rooms, Luke’s hand on his shoulder steers the brown boy towards his room.

The door clicks shut and Luke sighs.

“You need to talk to him.”

Calum frowns, pulling off a pretty convincing confused face.

“You know I’m talking about Michael.  That, that _mess_ during Jet Black Heart?! I’ve not seen him like that in a long time.” Luke’s voice rises as he speaks and Calum can tell he’s been holding this in for a while. “For some ridiculous reason you won’t tell me what happened, but it’s evidently really fucking him up.”

Callum nods, playing with his fingers.

“Ashton’s being pretty useless about it and I’ve tried but Michael just says he’s fine. You’re the one he needs, Cal, you can fix this. You know how Michael gets.”

Calum swallows, realising how much Luke’s words echo Mali’s.

“I don’t know if he wants to talk to me.” It comes out as a whisper and it suddenly dawns on him how true that statement is, and how awful that makes him feel.

Luke shrugs. “You and I both know we can’t go on like this. A few more nights of tour and he’ll be completely broken. Please don’t let it get to that.”

Calum nods. “Okay fine.”

“Good. You sort Mikey out, and I’ll try Ashton.”

 

∴

 

Calum knocks tentatively on Michael’s door expecting a resolute ‘fuck off’, or at least silence, but instead he gets a muffled ‘it’s open’.

The room is dark when he enters, and as his eyes adjust he sees Michael face down on his bed, clothes still on and suitcase unopened by the door.

“Hey…” Calum wonders why he didn’t actually prepare what he’d say before he came in here. But he’d just left Luke’s room and walked straight here, worried that if he took a second to think about it he’d chicken out.

Michael rolls over, eyeing Calum but not interrupting him.

“I thought maybe we should, um, talk.”

“Haven’t done that in a while.” Michael voice is a whisper; the weak tone makes Calum want to cuddle him.

He’s not quite sure where he stands though, whether cuddling with your best friend and once friend-with-benefits is acceptable? He settles on kicking off his shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed, feet tucked beneath him.

“I’m worried about you.”

Michael just huffs in response.

“No, seriously. I feel like we never actually spoke about everything, about Ash, about any of it. I’m worried about him too?”

“Why aren’t you talking to _him_ then?” Comes Michael’s brutal response.

Calum sighs. “Because you’re my best friend. You have been since we were seven and that’s not changed. No amount of sex can change that, Mike.”

Michael winces and Calum’s not sure if it’s the mention of sex or the nickname. Either way, it hurts.

“What’s going on? Please tell me.”

“I’m, I,” He takes a deep breath but Calum waits. “I’m not enough for Ashton.”

Calum flinches at that.

“You’re _what?_ ”

“He’s, he needs, I don’t know. I’m just not...” His voice tails off and Calum acts without thinking, crawling over to Michael and pulling the boy against him.

Michael moves as if from memory, legs settling over Calum’s and head against his chest until he’s in Calum’s lap, protected, and safe.

Calum wishes it was a different scenario.

“Mike, Ash loves you.”

Calum feels his head shake, but he threads his fingers through dyed brown hair and pets Michael’s head.

“He does.”

Michael begins to shake beneath him and Calum realises a second too late that he’s crying. He tries to pull Michael’s head away from his chest, to look him in the eyes, but Michael burrows further into his shirt so he just wraps his arms around him.

“It’s gonna be okay.” He whispers.

“I’m scared, we’ve never fought like this before. I just love him so much and I thought it was reciprocated. I don’t understand what happened?”

Calum feels bile rise in the back of his throat but he says nothing.

“Like, what changed? How did it suddenly fuck up?”

Sweat builds on Calum’s forehead and he feels like a piece of shit.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“It’s not your fault.” Michael fights back, pulling back to look at Calum.

“Mike, it is.”

“Stop, it’s not! We all kne-”

“We kissed.”

He says it, blurts it out. It’s accidental, but it’s out there.

Michael’s face falls but he says nothing.

“It was an accident.”

“You _accidentally_ kissed my boyfriend?” Michael’s voice is full of spite and Calum knows its 100% justified.

“Technically, he kissed me.”

Michael is silent, and Calum can’t tell if he’s upset or angry. He’s not sure which he’d rather.

“But obviously it was an accident, it wasn’t, like, _planned_. He was drunk and upset and I was also upset and it just kind of happened and I’m so fucking sorry Michael.”

They meet eyes and he nods.

“We both stopped the minute we realised what was happening. He ran to you, he went to _you,_ Mike, he wants you. Please believe it.”

Calum’s babbling now he’s speaking so fast, and Michael’s hand settles on his knee to calm him. It has the opposite effect, though. Calum frowns at the contact, feeling emotions rise in his chest.

“It all got so…confusing, this thing we were all doing, messing around together. I should’ve called it off when I felt myself falling for you guys, but I-”

“Calum, what?”

“No, I know, it was stupid, so so fucking stupid. It’s like fucking number one rule in the friends with benefits instruction manual, don’t get feelings. But it’s hard, y’know, it was weird coz it’s you guys and I loved you both so much already, being with you guys like that confused me, I guess.”

“It wasn-”

“No, listen. It’s okay, I’m okay and I’ll get over it, it’s fine. I’m done messing up the amazing thing you and Ash have, it’s not fair that my feelings should come between you two.”

Michael takes another breath to speak but Calum grabs his hand and doesn’t let him.

“So, I’m bowing out. Gracefully. You and Ash can go back to being obnoxious and in love and annoying. And _we_ can go back to being best friends again. Please?”

Calum sees Michael wanting to argue, and he knows what he’s thinking. Of course they can’t snap their fingers and pretend they’ve never slept together, pretend the last few months didn’t happen. But Calum’s bloody determined to try.

Michael pulls him into a hug.                                                                                     

“I love you, and I’m sorry too. This all kind of, happened so fast. But, maybe I can fix it.” Michael kisses Calum’s hair and it’s comforting, makes Calum ache.

He cracks a joke to relieve the tension.

“No homo, bro.”

They laugh, and Calum slowly feels the weight beginning to lift off his shoulders.

 

∴

 

He talks to Ashton the next day, giving him a condensed version of his conversation with Michael.

Calum tries not to be as melodramatic as ‘take good care of him’, because _honestly_ , they’re not in some ridiculous 90s movie. And Michael’s not a prize to have, and honestly Calum wants Ashton just as much as he wants Michael.

But he swallows his feelings and builds a bridge and gets the fuck over it.

At least that’s what he tells himself, and Mali, when she rings the next day.

 

∴

 

Tour picks up after that, and their dynamic is nearly back to normal. Calum keeps up appearances for as long as he can, spending time with all of his bandmates and trying to act as casual as possible.

It’s hard, of course, to pretend you’re not head over heels in love with multiple members of your band, but, Calum’s always been a good liar.

He busies himself by hanging out with the support acts, facetiming friends from home and in LA. He finds that it’s when he’s left alone with his thoughts is when it gets bad. So he fills the time and convinces himself it will all work out.

The UK tour is coming to a close and Calum is relieved and excited for some time off, some time to wallow and not have to put on a brave face every day.

Slowly, Michael and Ashton get their shit together. Calum’s been nothing but acutely aware of their every move; how Michael now always ends up sitting next to Ashton in the car, how they hold hands when no-one is looking. It’s refreshing and Michael’s smile is back, his ability to perform Jet Black Heart without sobbing is back, and Calum tries his best to be happy for him.

Ashton’s happy too. They’re still slightly at odds with each other, and Calum’s not sure Ashton will ever forgive himself for kissing the brown boy. It’s evident in the way Ashton’s body language shifts minutely when Calum’s around. What used to be calm, open and comfortable, is now slightly closed off.

The older boy always seems reluctant to touch Calum, even when they’re posing for photos, it’s an awkward, foreign arm around his shoulder – miles away from the firm, strong hold Ashton normally has on Calum.

Calum tries not to take offense, it’s weird, this whole ‘pretending we’ve not seen each other naked’ thing. He so used to not even blinking when cuddling up to Ashton, cracking innuendo after innuendo if he felt Ashton’s dick against him or saw a peak of his stomach when they got changed backstage.

Now it’s like the beginning again, when they hardly knew each other and didn’t have friendship boundaries (or lack of).

It comes to a head in Manchester, it’s the second night of playing the arena so soundcheck is fairly simple, they don’t have to worry about the stage layout or anything, just checking the guitars and mics.

Calum’s the last to be checked, and he’s standing up on one of the boxes, bass in hand as he plucks along to a rhythm and laughs with the sound guy as he tries to guess the song. It’s become a routine for them and Calum’s feeling comfortable and relaxed.

Which is why it comes as a surprise when he stumbles – normally things like this happen when he’s nervous or feeling awkward, tripping over his own feet like a dorky teenager. He’s not sure what happens, the lace from his converse gets caught on the edge of the box or something, and he feels himself flying. Instinctively, he moves the bass to the other hand to avoid any inevitable damage as they both clutter to the floor.

It doesn’t happen, though.

Instead, strong arms grab his waist and deliver both him and his bass safely to the ground. He’d know the touch in a heartbeat, but he still looks up to check, locking eyes with Ashton for a split second before the older boy realises what he’s done.

His hands retract immediately and he steps back, putting space between them. Calum can’t help but shiver at the icy feeling he gets where Ashton’s arms once were.

“Fuck.” Ashton whispers, shaking his head and spinning on his heels abruptly, disappearing off the stage.

A crew member appears and reaches for his bass, but Calum feels in a daze as he hands it over.

“Wish we all had a knight in shining armour to save us.” He laughs, nudging Calum in the side to provoke a reaction that Calum couldn’t produce if he tried.

“Loverboy taken your breath away, Cal?” Another calls, louder this time, and Calum feels Michael’s frown from across the stage.

“I’m gonna…” He points to the fire exit and leaves the stage, grabbing his Marlborough pack and lighter on the way out.

He’s not even sure touching the end of his cigarette could warm him from the cold chill in his chest.

**∴**

 

By the time they get to Dublin, Calum feels removed from the situation. It’s almost like he’s watching his life from the outside, not allowing himself to get upset or annoyed.

He walks in on Michael and Ashton kissing just before they head out to the pub and he nearly laughs at how cyclical it all feels. Michael is in Ashton’s lap, face buried in his neck and Ashton’s head is back against the wall, eyes closed.

They’re clearly getting heated, Michael’s beginning to pant as he grinds down against Ashton and Calum can’t help but bite his lip. It’s been a _long_ time, and after feeling two pairs of hands on you, just your own pathetic right hand feels pretty fucking pathetic.

But he shakes his head, clearing any sexy thought from it and turns to leave. Luke can fucking deal with this.

As he reaches for the door handle he makes the mistake of looking up and locks eyes with Ashton. The stare is electric, so strong that Calum so nearly races into the room and on to the bed, begging for them to take him back.

Instead, he shakes his head again, ignoring the look of hurt that flashes across Ashton’s eyes, and he closes the door.

 

**III**

 

The break does everyone some good - the bags under Luke’s eyes have disappeared and he’s back to his energetic, annoying self. Michael’s hair is blonde, and he has, of course, been quoting ‘blonde’s have more fun’ since he dyed it, much to Ashton’s annoyance.

(Ashton, of course, reminds him constantly that he’s loved and supported no matter his hair colour).

((Luke fake vomits when he overhears one time)).

Calum seems more focussed too, pushing them during rehearsals to tighten up the songs and make sure the fans get the best performance they possibly could. Ashton’s reminded why they all fit together well as a band, as well as best friends, and as they start the European tour, things are pretty much as good and happy and functional as they were in Japan.

If Ashton ignores Calum’s sidewise glances and inability to be in the same room as just Ashton and Michael.

 

∴

 

Verona is by far Ashton’s favourite venue they’ve ever performed in. They didn’t get to play it supporting One Direction, but Ashton’s seen the tour DVD and listen to Niall gush on and on about how cool the venue is. He’s ridiculously excited the day they arrive in the city.

And that means, by extension, Michael is too. Things have been _so_ much better recently, since all the mess in England, they’ve sorted their shit out and he’s so happy.

They head to the hotel first, Michael walking straight into Ashton’s room with him – absolutely no need for four rooms to be booked but management insist on it anyway.

The door shuts behind them and Ashton sighs. Despite his good mood, he’s still distinctly aware of how off things still are between him and Calum. Between Calum and Michael too. They never _talked_ , is the problem.

Ashton is always a fan of talking, communicating, hashing out problems and never going to sleep on an argument but it all happened so quickly and now it’s too late for him to do anything about it.

His mood has gone south as he drags his suitcase across the room and abandons it by the wardrobe. With his back to the door, he’s not even certain Michael is in the room until he feels arms wrap around his stomach.

“Love you.” Michael mumbles into his shoulder, and it’s so honest, so comforting, it brings a smile to Ashton’s face. He takes a deep breath, revelling in the feeling of being safe.

He spins in the blonde’s arms and pulls Michael tight against his chest.

“Love you too.” He mutters back, kissing Michael’s hair.

They stand in silence for a few long seconds, wrapped up in each other. Of course, Michael breaks the silence.

“Do you think we have time for a quickie before we have to leave?”

Ashton throws his head back and laughs, never quite expecting Michael’s brashness despite having known him for so long.

“What?!” Michael whines, pouting and burying his face in Ashton’s neck. “It’s not funny. Had to go a whole two weeks with no sex so I’m pretty sure we should make up for it now.”

The tone is light and teasing, but with every word, Michael’s lips brush against Ashton’s neck, hot breath hitting the warm skin. It makes him shiver.

“Shutup and kiss me, then.” Comes Ashton’s response. Normally he’s one for being in control, loves bossing Michael around as much as Michael likes being bossed around. But today he’s feeling slightly different, vulnerable.

He wants Michael to take him, distract him, make him feel good.

The blonde is quick to notice the change in mood, pushing Ashton back towards the bed so he can get his hands on him as quickly as possible.

He pulls Ashton’s coat and shirt off of him as the curly haired boy shuffles onto the bed. Michael wastes no time, settling between Ashton’s legs and beginning to place kisses down his bare stomach.

The muscles beneath his lips tense and quiver as Ashton feels the wet touch of Michael’s tongue on his abs. The blonde boy’s right hand slips up and down Ashton’s side, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

It’s been far too long since Michael’s had the time to savour Ashton’s body like this, and he’s gonna make sure the boy feels good.

He leans up and sucks Ashton’s right nipple into his mouth, letting his teeth scrape against it and smirking when Ashton’s hips buck up beneath him.

“Yes,” The older boy hisses, one hand reaching up to card through Michael’s hair, the other pulling at the bed sheets to his side.

Michael alternates between nipples, blowing cold air on them and feeling more and more smug at Ashton’s reactions.

It doesn’t take long for Ashton to start begging, and Michael takes pity on him. He kisses down down down Ashton’s stomach until he’s at the waistband of his jeans, raising an eyebrow at the very prominent bulge sticking out at him.

“You like this, Ash?” Michael asks, and Ashton wants to roll his eyes, snap at him for teasing him. But he doesn’t, instead moaning and nodding his head.

“Use your words…” Michael warns, but he’s just teasing, repeating an expression Ashton constantly uses on him when he’s reduced to nothing but whimpers.

Ashton kicks him lightly with his leg and laughs.

“Use your _hands_ , please.” He adds.

Michael’s fingers find the zip, unbuttoning the jeans and slowly pulling them down Ashton’s legs. He’s tempted to leave him in his boxers, tease him further, but he decides he’s teased enough.

Besides, they probably don’t have that long until they have to be in the car to get to the venue.

He strokes Ashton’s thighs, kissing at the paler skin as he admires Ashton’s hard dick above him. It’s thick and flushed red, a similar colour to the flush on Ashton’s face and it makes Michael smile.

“How do you wa-”

“Your fingers, _please_ , Mikey.”

Michael would laugh at Ashton’s eagerness but he himself is finding it hard to keep it together, the sight of a naked, turned on boy is enough to get Michael chubbing up in his trousers. He scrambles off the bed, locating some lube in a handy inside pocket of his rucksack. He’s always prepared.

Ashton’s nearly panting by the time Michael’s worked a single finger into him. The blonde boy has him so worked up; stroked over his hole whilst mouthing at the head of his dick, relaxing him so the stretch was completely bearable.

It’s been a while since they’ve done this, but in this moment, Ashton wonders why he doesn’t ask for it more often. He feels so warm and relaxed, his legs like jelly as Michael’s finger begins to push in and out of him.

He nearly kicks Michael in the head when he finds his prostate, and both boys laugh, Michael having to halt his movements whilst he gets his breath back.

By the time Ashton’s got three fingers inside of him, he’s practically writhing. His skin is damp with sweat and his hair is splayed across the pillow.

He’s struggling to keep his eyes opening, but he makes an effort to lock eyes with Michael.

“M’ready. Please.”

Michael scrambles up, placing a kiss on Ashton’s lips as he pulls his fingers from the boy beneath him.

“Like this?” He murmurs, lips brushing Ashton’s as he squirts lube on his own dick, pumping it quickly, desperate to be inside of Ashton as soon as possible.

“Yeah, _please_ Mikey, wanna see you.”

Michael lines himself up and pushes in slowly. It takes a second for the head to breach Ashton’s hole, the boy beneath him gasping as it finally slips inside.

Ashton’s a mess, eyes squeezed shut and thighs trembling as Michael slowly bottoms out. The blonde boy knows to wait, knows that Ashton will tell him when he can move, but it’s hard to stay still, the heat of Ashton so so tight and overwhelming around him.

“Jesus Christ,” Ashton pants, and Michael laughs. The movement causes him to shift a little, and Ashton’s eyes snap open, boring into Michael’s.

“Please, move. Michael, please, _please…”_ His moaning turns into a whine as Michael slowly pulls out, shifting his weight onto his knees before pushing forward again. Michael’s hands find Ashton’s glorious thighs, pulling them up to surround his hips, make the angle deeper.

Ashton whines more. “That’s it, babe.”

Michael builds a slow rhythm, maintaining eye contact as he pushes into Ashton, watches the boy beneath him fall apart.

Ashton can’t believe how incredible this feels, can’t believe it’s been so long since he last asked for this. Sex with Michael is, of course, always amazing. They both like it hard and fast, the number of beds they’ve broken is countless and the number of noise complaints they’ve received is actually laughable.

He loves nothing more than riling Michael up, roughing him up and making him beg, watching bruises bloom on the pale skin beneath him. But right now, this is exactly what he needs. Strong, intimate, romantic sex with the boy he loves.

 _One_ of the boys he loves, a voice in the back of his brain whispers. He coughs, shaking his head slightly to remove the thought.

“Mikey,” he rasps, “fucking kiss me.”

Michael, leans down immediately, lips finding Ashton’s. The kiss is just like the sex, comforting and wonderful and the angle has Ashton’s cock rubbing against Michael’s stomach with every thrust.

Ashton hiccups into the kiss as he feels his orgasm building. His hands map their way up Michael’s body, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Love you.” He whispers into the kiss, toes curling as he comes.

Michael fucks him through it, reaching his high just seconds later. He collapses on top of Ashton, both boys panting.

“Fucking love you too, Ash.”

They’re startled moments later by a bang on the door.

“We’re leaving for the venue soon, you have ten minutes to get decent.” Luke’s voice shouts through the door. “I mean it!”

Ashton hears his footsteps retreat down the corridor. He pinches Michael’s side.

“Shower?”

 

∴

 

By the time they get to Paris, it’s safe to say him and Michael are back into their honeymoon phase. Luke has definitely seen more of the two men than he ever hoped to and Ashton is pretty embarrassed. Of course, Michael isn’t even remotely phased, continuing to insist that having sex where their bandmates could walk in on them is fun and exciting.

If it wasn’t for the past few months, Ashton would joke that maybe Michael _wants_ their bandmates to find them, wants them to join in. Instead he keeps his mouth shut and tries to fight Michael’s indecent moves to turn him on in various public places.

Ashton’s happy to see Michael and Calum rebuilding their friendship – they’ve been spending more time together and Michael seems so much happier for it, falling asleep every night with a smile on his face.

Paris is every bit as beautiful as Ashton remembers it. From the architecture to the patisseries in the bakery to the accent of the people around them, it’s all so aesthetic and dream-like. Michael teases him that it’s gonna make Ashton’s Instagram game strong, and he’s not wrong.

They get a day to relax in the city before playing a gig, and Ashton is so happy, can’t wait to explore the city with Michael. Sure, they’d done the sights previously, but that was before he and Michael were together, and it sounds cheesy as fuck but, Paris with your lover is so much better than Paris with your friends.

Besides, Michael’s been happier recently so Ashton guesses it won’t take too much convincing to get the blonde boy to leave the hotel and explore with him.

Ashton wakes up early and creeps out of Michael’s room, careful not to wake him as he disappears into ‘his’ room for a shower. The water pressure is perfect and soon the room is steamy and warm. Ashton feels the stress of tour ease out of his muscles as he washes his hair.

He feels rejuvenated following his shower, actually carefully choosing clothes out of his suitcase as opposed to throwing on whatever is on top. He creeps back into Michael’s room, about to climb into bed and gently wake Michael up when his stomach grumbles loudly.

The blonde boy stirs in bed and Ashton giggles softly.

“Sorry, wanted to wake you with kisses and cuddles, not an empty stomach.”

Michael grunts out something that sounds suspiciously like ‘too early’. Ashton laughs, stroking Michael’s fringe out of his eyes and giving him a gentle kiss before turning away and grabbing his phone.

‘heading for some caffeine – anyone want takeout? Xx’

He sends to the group chat, laughing again when Michael’s phone vibrates on the bedside table and the boy grunts again.

The radio silence on his own phone suggests the other two members of his band are equally as dead as Michael, so Ashton makes an executive decision to surprise them all with a coffee and a croissant – Michael’s of course with extra sugar and Luke’s croissant with chocolate on top. He knows Calum likes his coffee how Ashton likes his, strong and black. Something that Michael used to laugh about considering he’s weak and as white as they get.

Ashton sighs. He grabs his wallet, room key and phone, and walks out the door, closing it quietly.

He makes an embarrassingly loud noise when he nearly bumps into someone outside the room. He’s about to apologise in French, scrambling for the correct term when he sees Calum, dressed impeccably, in front of him, fingers fiddling with his watch.

“Mind if I join?” He mumbles, chancing a look at Ashton’s face.

There’s silence for a beat, mostly because Ashton’s taken aback. The brown boy has definitely been avoiding him, choosing to never been in the same room alone and always putting his headphones in whenever there’s an opportunity for them to talk.

Ashton cringes, realising his hesitation probably seems like rejection, and the small smile on Calum’s face is slowly falling.

“’Course, you don’t have to ask.”

The smile he gets for his response is worth every second of awkwardness between the two. Calum’s positively beaming at him, eyes crinkled with the force of his smile and it’s infectious, has Ashton smiling too.

“C’mon, I’ve heard there’s a patisserie round the corner that has croissant to die for.”

 

∴

 

They find the café that Bryana had recommended to Ashton easily. It’s so beautifully Parisian, a cute little bakery with swirly handwriting and cute china cups, that Ashton feels a bit like he’s in a film.

They sit outside, sipping their black coffee, talking and laughing about stupid things and things _almost_ feel normal again. Calum’s offering Ashton a bite of the biscuit that came with his coffee when the waitress brings their croissants over.

“Beaux amoureux…” She smiles, setting down the plates and looking from man to man. “Enjoy!” She says in a strong French accent, walking back inside the café.

Calum laughs, “What did she say? Bow ameeru? S’that mean?!”

Ashton laughs too, but he has a sinking feeling he knows what the waitress meant, could tell from the smile and his vague understanding of the French language. He tries not to blush.

There are some girls on the table next to them whom Ashton had guessed were fans, but he didn’t want to be assumptive. One of them catches his eye and laughs, smiling knowingly.

Calum sees and beckons her over, doing the standard ‘awesome that you’re a fan, are you coming to the show tonight’ spiel, but then ends with “do you know what the waitress said?!”

The fan smiles politely, looking a little embarrassed herself as she replies.

“She said ‘beaux amoureux’. It mean ‘beautiful lovers’, or ‘beautiful couple’. Maybe she think you two,” she gestures with her hands, signalling ‘together’, “are boyfriends?”

She laughs and Ashton feels his entire face flush bright red. Calum laughs awkwardly, smoothly asking if the fan and her friends would like a photo. It amazes Ashton how the brown boy always overcomes embarrassment so easily, whereas Ashton is still sitting there like a ripe tomato, not really doing anything.

One of the other fans asks him to take a photo with him and it snaps him out of it. He goes back into ‘fan-mode’ and smiles and poses for photos and signs things as if his heart wasn’t beating out of his chest.

The fans finally leave and the two boys finish their food in peace. The once easy conversation is now stilted and awkward, Calum’s body has shifted so it’s now facing slightly away from Ashton and the older boy pushes down how much that hurts. How it feels like they finally took a step forward, just for them to take two steps back.

He goes inside and pays the bill, leaving a tip and avoiding eye contact with the waitress. When he returns outside he sees Calum has lit up a cigarette. He’s awaiting the brown boy to tell him he’s heading back, or that he’s meeting someone else, but instead Calum suggests they go for a walk.

The calmness of Paris this early in the morning is something Ashton hadn’t realised the other times they’d been. The streets were normally heaving with people in the afternoons they’d been exploring, but this early, the streets are quiet and it’s nice.

Conversation is still slightly awkward, but Ashton can tell Calum is trying his best. He considers bringing up the Thing that they both know they should talk about, but selfishly he just wants to enjoy his time with Calum without digging out the enormous mess of emotions and feelings that they’re forbidden from talking about.

Eventually, they reach the river, choosing to leave the main street and instead walk along a path right next to the water.

Calum is humming a song, but Ashton can’t quite catch it. He’s surprised when Calum stops, turning to Ashton with a frown on his face.

“What _is_ that song?! It’s like ‘walks along the Seine, laughing in the rain….’” He sings the tune quietly, a serious look on his face and Ashton can’t hold back his laughter.

“What?!” Calum crosses his arms across his chest, pouting at the blatant mockery going on. “What’s so funny?!”

Ashton composes himself. “It’s Mamma Mia…” he says, and bursts out laughing again.

This time Calum joins him, head thrown back in glorious laughter. Ashton’s heart soars.

They walk on and the awkwardness has lifted, both happy in their silence

“I bet the Eiffel Tower is really quiet at this time…we probably wouldn’t even have to queue…”

Ashton proposes, an eyebrow quirked.

“But, what abou-”

“Fuck the others.”

Ashton’s not sure who is more surprised at his response, he or Calum. He continues.

“C’mon Cal, let’s have a morning adventuring together. We’ll probably be back before the others are even awake?! Like old times.”

Ashton knows he makes a convincing argument. He also knows Calum’s never been very good at saying no to him.

Ashton also knows this is ridiculously selfish of him. He’s just desperate for some time with Calum, and things are finally okay-ish between them and he just wants to stay in this bubble for a little longer.

He sends Michael a text.

‘Me n Cal are gonna do a bit of touristing before it gets busy. Ur probs asleep, I’ll wake u up with lunch <3 xxx’

And then, even more selfishly, puts his phone on airplane mode. The rest of the world can just wait for a bit whilst he gets to spend some quality time with his best friend.

 

∴

 

After the Eiffel Tower, some pretty gardens and multiple coffee stops, the two finally jump on the metro to return to the hotel.

They’d briefly discussed Michael, Calum insisting how good it is that he seems happy again. There are three times that Ashton so nearly brings up the kiss. But he refrains, not wanting to remove the smile that’s been permanently set on Calum’s face all day.

 

∴

 

By the time they return, Ashton’s heart is full and happy, he’s so pleased he and Calum have eased some of the tension between them, and he’s looking forward to broaching the topic with Michael.

Ashton’s got a spring to his step as he approaches Michael’s hotel room, expecting the blonde boy to have not moved from his position in bed. But when he scans the room card in the door, it flashes green and he pushes the door but it doesn’t open.

He frowns, trying again and is about to start banging on the door to wake up Michael when Luke appears over his shoulder, huffing loudly.

“Are you kidding?”

Ashton frowns further, incredibly confused as to why Luke is glaring at him.

“He’s fucking locked the door from the inside, Ash. He won’t let me in either.”

Ashton turns to face him properly, panic setting in. “Why?” He whispers after a beat.

“How the fuck am I meant to know? He rang me shouting about you blocking his calls about an hour ago and refused to tell me anymore. What the fuck have you done?!”

Ashton bristles at the insinuation that he’s done something. The thought that it could be Michael in the wrong is completely out of the question. He sighs loudly.

“For fuck’s sake. I didn’t _block_ him, I turned my phone off because I wanted some peace and quiet. It wasn’t _personal_. He’s always so fucking dramatic.”

He whispers the final part, slumping against the wall.

Luke pats him on the shoulder. “Dramatic or not, he’s your boyfriend and he’s upset. Again.”

The blonde leaves, muttering something about ‘this fucking band’ and Ashton slumps against the wall.

He knows he should try to calm down, but he’s so angry, he can’t be arsed to politely ask Michael to open the door. If his boyfriend wants to act like an immature idiot, then he will too.

“Mike, if you don’t open this door right now I’ll break it down.”

Silence.

“I’m not kidding, I’ll slam my shoulder into it.”

Nothing.

“Hopefully it won’t break my shoulder, but it might stop me playing drums. We might have to cancel the tour.”

The silence is almost loud, now.

“That would be a _lot_ of fans ups-”

Michael throws open the door with a huff. Ashton is met with his stony face and blank eyes.

“So now you wanna talk?” Michael’s voice is bitter, resigned. Ashton would rather him angry than like this.

Ashton nods solemly. “Is it okay if I get Cal?”

Michael huffs but doesn’t object, turning away from the door to sit down on the bed. Ashton sends Calum a text and then sits on the bed, so close that Michael shuffles away slightly.

Ashton sighs again.

Calum walks through the door silently, closing it and leaning against it.

“Last time I was standing in a doorway like this, you too were…” Calum tries, making an obscene fucking gesture with his fingers. All he wants is to see Michael smile, but all he gets is a humourless laugh from Ashton.

Ashton hears a sniffle from next to him and he looks up to see Michael holding in tears, staring blankly at the floor between his feet.

“So. Is this how you wanted to tell me? That you two are together?”

Calum frowns.

“Mikey…wha-”

“No, Cal. Don’t ‘Mikey’ me. What happened to stepping back? Bowing out and leaving us to it? Didn’t look like you were doing that today.”

Michael thrusts his phone towards Calum and the brown boy takes a tentative step towards him, frowning. On the screen is a photo of he and Ashton at breakfast that morning. They’re both laughing and looking at each other intensely.

From the outside it looks like a photo of a couple and Calum winces a little.

Michael huffs. “Maybe I should be the one bowing out? Leaving the two of you to it?”

Ashton grabs the phone from Michael, shaking his head.

“Michael, you know it’s not like tha-”

“Not like what?” He snaps, venom in his voice. “You don’t love him? Tell me, right now. Tell me you’re not in love with him.”

Ashton’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. He doesn’t dare look at Calum, eyes locked on Michael and the tears that are threatening in his eyes.

“The worst fucking part, Ash, is that I’m not just jealous of him. I’m jealous of you too.”

Somewhere in the background Calum gasps, but Ashton can’t look away from Michael, the green orbs that are staring into his soul.

“Ashton,” Michael’s hand finds Ashton’s and the older man prepares himself for the fall out. For the love of his life to end their relationship. “I love you. You know that. But,” there’s a dramatic pause and Ashton can feel his heart about to beat out of his chest.

Michael looks at Calum and Ashton’s pretty sure the brown boy is no longer breathing.

“I love Calum too.” Michael says, the words coming out in a rush of emotion, his voice threatening to break on the final word. He looks back to Ashton, a single tear falling down his cheek.

Ashton can’t help but feel like this is the final scene in a season finale of a tv show, the climax, the _iconic_ moment.

“I’ve tried to deny it for so long, tried to pretend everything is okay, but I can’t do it any longer. I love you both and I want to be with you both but I understand that that’s not reciprocated, that you two would rather be alone. So this time, _I’m_ backing away. I’m-”

Michael is cut off by Ashton’s laughter, loud and obnoxious, giggles ringing through the room.

Calum looks up suddenly, a frown on his face as he and Michael catch eyes.

“Ash-” Michael tries but Ashton cuts him off.

“Jesus Christ, Mike. Cal and I aren’t seeing you behind your back?! We spent a day touristing, visiting the sights of Paris whilst you were asleep.”

“Oh.” Is Michael’s response.

“I’m not _cheating_ on you, I had a day out with my best friend.”

Michael is silent, slowly taking in the information.

“Anyway,” Ashton continues, fully in rant mode and the other two boys know there’s no stopping him. “This is actually fucking ridiculous, what a _mess._ Michael,” he turns to him lacing their fingers together. “I fucking love you.” He reaches for Calum, “And you.”

“I fucking love you both, and I know today was weird and I’m a shit boyfriend for turning my phone off and I’m sorry, Mikes, I really am, but I’ve seen the way you look at me whenever I’m near him. The forlorn puppy dog eyes make me feel so fucking guilty, they have done since Brighton, and I don’t want to upset you anymore. I’ve done this all wrong and I know we should’ve sat down and discussed this _months_ ago but…I needed to spend today with you, Cal,” he turns to the brown boy, “I needed the day alone with you to…understand a few things. And I don’t think I’m wrong… _god,”_

He huffs out a nervous laugh and Michael places his other hand on Ashton’s thigh, comforting. The older man continues. “Please, Cal, don’t tell me I’m wrong…but…you want this too? Right?”

The silence is deafening, and Calum can feel his mouth open, unable to form words.

“I…”

And then Calum is in Ashton’s arms, in Michael’s too, and they’re in a pile on the bed, not unlike how it all started. Except there’s significantly less alcohol and fewer boners, and a ridiculous amount of love.

“Is that…a yes?” Ashton’s not sure he’s ever heard Michael sound so nervous and he curls his arm around the blonde boy tighter.

“Yes,” Calum laughs, sitting up so he’s straddling one of each of their thighs, balances precariously with his arms wrapped around their strong shoulders.

“Of-fucking- _course_ it’s a yes. _God._ I love yo-”

He’s cut off by Ashton’s lips on his, warm and soft and comforting, and then another pair of lips joint them.

And then they’re kissing, the three of them. And it’s magical and wonderful and Ashton feels like every single sappy song he can think of.

“So,” Michael whispers into the kiss but Calum cuts him off, surging forward again, pulling Ashton with him.

“Is this…have we… _shit_ ,” he laughs. “Have we finally sorted this out? Like actually?”

Ashton pulls back suddenly, face serious. “Not quite.”

The other two boys frown, worried. Ashton feels cruel, teasing them like this, but.

“If we’re gonna do this, we’ve gotta do it properly.”

He pulls away, stepping off the bed and he sees Calum shiver. Michael pulls Calum onto his lap properly, the brown boy’s back to his front and Michael’s chin hooked over his shoulder, hands wrapped around his stomach tightly. Ashton takes a mental photograph, documenting how fucking good they look together.

Michael clears his throat, snapping Ashton out of his thoughts.

On impulse, he drops down onto one knee.

Everyone gasps.

“We’ve done this so wrong. Completely backwards, completely dysfunctional, completely _us_ , but I want to do it right. Let’s do it right.”

Michael squeezes Calum and the brown boy’s face is full of joy, cheeks so round and full they look like they might burst.

“Cal,” Ashton reaches for Calum’s hand, grabbing Michael’s at the same time so the three are entwined.

“Will you be our boyfriend?”

 

∴

 

When Ashton walks into the dressing room after the gig in Amsterdam, Luke is alone.

“Where are the others?”

Luke shrugs.

“I think Cal went out for a cig.”

Ashton nods, grabbing his jacket before winding his way through the corridors of the venue. He finds Calum outside, just as Luke suggested, but what the singer didn’t suggest was that there would be a Michael attached to Calum’s face.

“Starting the party without me?” Ashton says, an eyebrow raised.

Michael laughs into Calum’s neck.

“Just congratulating him on how fucking incredible If You Don’t Know sounded.”

Ashton aggressively agrees.

“I think he deserves more than a half arsed handjob outside an arena…”

Calum laughs, this time _he_ agrees. Ashton ducks forward, capturing Calum’s lips in a kiss.

He still can’t quite believe he’s allowed to do that now, just kiss Calum without any of the worries or guilt swimming through his head. The brown boy kisses back as energetically as ever, a hand gripping at Ashton’s waist.

Another hand joins his around Ashton’s waist and the oldest boy feels kisses pepper down his throat. Michael whines in the back of his throat when Ashton ignores him and Ashton can’t help but laugh into the kiss.

He pulls back and kisses Calum’s nose, and then Michael’s.

“C’mon. No more public sex. Now we’re Official Grown Up Boyfriends, I think we deserve a bed.”

 

∴

 

The two sold out shows in Amsterdam are fucking incredible and Ashton knows they’re all back on their A game.

The next few shows pass in a bit of a blur, and Ashton knows they’re performing a billion times better now that the three of them have sorted their shit out. The energy between them all on stage is electric, plus Ashton is really enjoying being able to stare at _both_ Calum’s and Michael’s arses without feeling guilty.

Ashton’s brought back his polaroid, having nearly forgotten about it in the bottom of his suitcase for so long. Calum buys him some more film as a present, and naturally Ashton gets straight back into the swing of taking arty photos of his bandmembers and of the incredible cities they’re visiting.

Michael pretends to complain but he secretly loves it, and Ashton knows.

In Amneville, the pranks and posters begin. Almost every evening begins with Banding, the four of them being idiots and trying to pull the most elaborate prank backstage. There’s a string of photos printed out, a mixture of memes and animal photos (Michael’s contribution) that they beginning sticking on random doors of arenas.

Ashton’s pretty sure they’re annoying as fuck to anyone who works there (and their own crew), but there’s only a few weeks left of tour and they’re all in complete insanity mode.

Of course, Ashton documents the entirety on snapchat, and he’s sure the fans love him for it.

Somewhere in Denmark, on a tour bus filled with his favourite people, Ashton posts a photo of the band that he loves. They’re being interviewed backstage in some European city and they’re all laughing following one of Michael’s typically crude jokes.

He’s been having plenty of ‘pinch me’ moments on this tour, playing cities he’s never even heard of and having to search his location to know where he is. The fans are fucking incredible, and the best part is, he’s with his best friends.

And boyfriends.

It’s fucking insane he gets to say that now, he just wants to blurt it out 24/7. He refrains though, not wanting to out them just yet. Instead, he posts instagrams with gay af captions, waiting for fans to react.

_We grow together, we keep chasing that dream together._

 

∴

 

In Hamburg, they get to see ACDC perform, and Michael squeezes Ashton’s hand so tight he’s surprised it doesn’t fall off due to lack of blood supply.

It’s totally worth it though.

 

∴

 

Luke finds out in Copenhagen. The three of them wake up uncharacteristically early and go for breakfast. They, of course, bring him back a pastry and a coffee, because Luke in the morning without food is a Luke Ashton doesn’t want to have to face ever again.

As they slip into his room to deliver the food (thanks to Ashton’s ability to sweet-talk the reception desk for a spare key), Luke is still asleep, breathing deeply, angelic face framed by even more angelic hair on his pillow.

“He’s so cute.”

Michael whispers, stroking Luke’s hair off his face.

“What, you wanna date him now too?” Comes Ashton’s response, stage whispered.

It’s become a running joke – whenever Michael shows an interest in anything, food or a video game character or a real human, they suggest he should bring them into their relationship too.

“Are we not enough for you, Mikey?” Calum laughs, arms wrapping around Ashton as he hides his smile in the back of the oldest man’s neck. “Bored of us already?”

Ashton’s laughing when Luke’s voice cuts him off.

“Us…?” He sounds croaky and confused.

Oh, shit.

It doesn’t take long to explain, although waiting for Luke’s response feels like a lifetime.

Ashton’s anticipating shouting, maybe some tears, a few “how could you risk the band like this?”.

Instead, Luke yawns and reaches for the food bag in the bedside table, sniffing it.

“You better have gotten me a Danish.”

And honestly, you couldn’t really predict a more _Luke_ response to finding out his three best friends are in a polyamorous relationship.

 

∴

 

Later that evening, they hit 6 million Instagram followers and Ashton knows he won’t shut the fuck up about it and he’s driving his band mad, but _seriously_ , six million people put up with their annoying captions and reposts on Instagram?!

He manages to convince Calum to join him in making a video to say thank you to the fans, and it’s just so damn comfortable and normal to be messing around with the brown boy, Ashton can’t wipe the smile from his face.

The four of them stay up for a long time that night, bundled up together in a pile on top of Ashton’s hotel room bed.

Luke brought beer (upon Michael’s request) and they all lie down together, entangled in their normal way, a mess of limbs and empty beer bottles. As the alcohol flows, so do their confessions, and before long, Luke has been given a detailed account of their relationship woes from the last month.

Of course, their conversation contains lots of ‘Don’t make me sound so desperate…’ ‘Umm, you initiated that time!’ and ‘I do _not_ sound like that!’ The latter predominantly from Ashton, considering Michael loves winding him up and imitating his voice about eight pitches higher than it actually is.

Luke laughs, cringing when their stories get a little too detailed, kicking Michael hard in the shin when he begins to slur a sentence about how good both his boyfriends make him feel.

Being honest with Luke has lifted weights off Ashton’s shoulders that he didn’t even know existed, and they stay up long into the night, watching the sun rise through the curtains of the hotel room.

Michael and Calum both fall asleep not long after the alcohol supply has dried up. Ashton can’t help the fondness that washes over him as he watches Calum’s arm tighten around Michael’s stomach, pulling the blonde boy closer in his sleep.

Luke notices him staring and smirks. Ashton pointedly ignores him, but blushes slightly, before continuing their conversation about the universe and philosophy and whether we’re born destined to do great things, or if we make our own fate.

Aside from winding Luke up, one of Ashton’s favourite things is to talk about deep shit with the boy.

He gets this adorable ‘thinking face’ on when he’s had a few beers and he’s trying to be fake deep.

It’s kind of a tradition of theirs – has been since that first night Ashton stayed over in Michael’s granny flat after the first ever band rehearsal. The other two weaklings always fall asleep early, desperate for as many hours as possible, but Luke and Ashton stay up, discussing things that are only acceptable to discuss after two am.

Like who decided star sign cut offs and what would happen if time didn’t exist and is technology actually killing us all.

Ashton knows they’ll be shattered in the morning, he knows they’ll probably regret it when they have to be full of energy and life on stage, but it doesn’t matter. Through all the drama and relationship mess, he’d missed his quality time with Luke.

 

∴

 

As predicted, he wakes up less than two hours later by a loud knocking on the door from their tour manager, demanding they all be in the lobby ready to leave in forty minutes. It takes ten minutes to coax Luke out of his bed and into the shower, but it’s worth it when the blonde sleepily grabs his shoulders, murmuring a “I’m so glad that you’re finally happy”.

 

∴

 

They nearly miss the ferry to Estonia, and Ashton entirely blames Calum for helping Michael set up Fifa in his hotel room.

That and how hot Calum looks playing the game – their quickie cost them at least twenty minutes of getting ready time.

But by the time they board the boat, Luke has forgiven them for any overheard noises (he was unlucky enough to get allocated the room next to Michael’s) and the four have found some comfy sofas by a window in the lounge of the ferry. Michael and Luke are curled up together, sharing headphones and both watching the seagulls fly effortlessly alongside the boat.

Michael’s hardly uttered two words, always so grumpy in the morning, and Ashton knows that leaving him to Luke is the best option. They have this strange sitting-together-in-silence companionship that Ashton doesn’t even try to understand.

He looks up and Calum catches his eye across the table, smiling and nodding towards the door to the deck. Ashton grabs his coat without even considering it – by this point he’d follow Calum anywhere, and they all know it.

The air outside is cold but refreshing, and Ashton loves the excuse to huddle a little closer to Calum as they stand against the railing. The brown boy’s hand slips into Ashton’s and he smiles, squeezing the fingers between his.

“You’re so-” Ashton murmurs, cutting himself off when Calum turns to face him, brown eyes twinkling.

“What? I’m so what?” Calum smiles, an eyebrow raised, ready to tease Ashton.

“Incredible.” He says, blushing and looking down. “I’m so happy.”

He awaits the ‘awhhh’ and the roll of the eyes, the dismissive comment. But Calum is silent.

Ashton looks up, pulling Calum against his side and into a half hug.

“Me too. We all are. Bloody long time coming too.”

“Yeah,” Ashton huffs out a laugh. “Sorry about that…”

“Hey,” Calum pulls back to look him in the eye. “None of that. We were all a mess but it’s sorted now. And we have each other.” He beams, hugging Ashton tight. “And the dragon inside.”

The final part is mumbled into Ashton’s shoulder where his mouth is pressed. Ashton feels rather than sees the rumble of laughter that shakes through Calum. They stand embracing for a few long minutes before Ashton steps back.

“Right, enough emotions. Let’s get a photo.”

Calum groans but, of course, obliges. They ask a stranger to take a photo of them together and within a few minutes Ashton has instagrammed it.

(Calum secretly screenshots to keep it on his phone too.)

 

∴

 

In Berlin, Ashton jumps off the stage and runs along the front of the pit, grabbing as many hands as possible, smiling and beaming and honestly _thriving_ off of the energy in the room. One fan grabs both his hands and instead of screaming in his face or bursting into tears, she simply says ‘thank you’.

He’s so fucking happy he wants to explode.

 

∴

 

They spend most of their backstage time with the lads from Don Broco, and Ashton’s happy coz he loves being friends with musicians, loves sharing the rollercoaster ride that they’re on with other people.

But he’s actually kinda jealous.

It means he’s hardly spent any time with Calum recently, who is completely enamoured with Rob and any second he’s gotten with his new boyfriend is spent discussing the other band and how amazing they are.

He knows being jealous is pretty pathetic considering he knows how much Calum loves him, and that his flirting is completely harmless, but he decides he’s had enough when Calum blows off their coffee date because he agreed to go over some studio tracks with the band.

Ashton sulks all morning until Michael finds him grumping on his phone in the green room. His boyfriend has no qualms in climbing completely on top of him, knocking Ashton’s phone out of his hand and Ashton’s breath out of his body.

“Love me.” Michael pouts, voice a little whiney.

Ashton automatically worries, hands finding the small of Michael’s back and stroking softly.

“You know I do.”

“ _You_ do,” Michael whines again, and Ashton realises he knows where this is going. “But Calum has hardly looked at me in two days and I’m starting to think there’s something wrong with me…”

Ashton’s fingers thread through Michael’s hair, pulling his head away from his chest so he can kiss him. Their lips meet in a desperate way, and Ashton tries to let Michael know how much he’s loved, how much he’s needed.

“Don’t take it personally – I feel like I’ve been left on read for weeks.”

“He’s got new shiny toys, feels like he doesn’t want to play with us anymore.” Michael pouts more, casting his eyes downwards.

Ashton decides there and then that something must be done to get their boyfriend back.

 

∴

 

Ashton’s plan is pretty good, if he can say so himself. It feels good to have Michael on his side, teaming up with him, it almost feels like one of their dumb high school pranks back in the days of derpball and swapping Luke’s conditioner for hair dye, although this is slightly more mature and contains more lube…

Step one is to sneak into Calum’s hotel room, and Michael takes it upon himself to sweet-talk the receptionist, assuring Ashton that he’ll be able to blag his way into getting Calum’s room key no problem.

Ashton stands back, pretending to peruse the leaflets and magazines offering tours of Barcelona whilst Michael ‘works his magic’.

Less than two minutes later, his boyfriend is back, tail between his legs and a pout on his lips.

“Save it for the professionals.” He smirks, slapping the magazine he was holding into Michael’s hand as he struts towards the desk, pulling his sunglasses off his head.

He approaches the woman with a dazzling smile and twinkling eyes.

Thirty seconds later, the key is his and then they’re standing outside Calum’s door. Michael’s still pouting, bitter that Ashton got the key and he didn’t.

“What can I say,” Ashton smirks, “It’s my charm and good looks. They’ll get you everywhere in life.”

Michael shoves him into the wall but it’s lighthearted, Ashton slapping his arse in return.

“Nuh uh, none of that until Calum gets here.”

Michael snatches the keycard from Ashton’s hand and enters the room, turning his nose up at how neatly Calum’s shoes are lined up by his suitcase.

“We’re not all animals like you, Mike. Now pass the candles.”

 

∴

 

Ashton had guessed Calum would be back from lunch with his new best friends around three, and it turns out he was spot on.

Michael bites his lip when they hear footsteps outside in the corridor, climbing on top of Ashton and straddling his hips, exactly as planned. They’re both in just their boxers, half hard from anticipating what’s to come. (The heated kissing hadn’t helped the situation either). The fumble of a key card into the door can be heard and Ashton pulls Michael down, kissing him once softly on the cheek, reassuring and loving, before joining their lips together.

His hands, predictably, sneak down to Michael’s arse and he feels the blonde laugh into the kiss.

The door opens and Ashton feels Michael grind down against him, beginning to build up a rhythm.

Calum’s gasp is audible and Ashton feels powerful.

“Oh, hi.” Ashton says, voice bored and monotonous. The confused look Calum gives him nearly makes him break character.

“Didn’t realise we were having an afternoon in bed.”

Calum begins to walk towards the bed when Ashton tuts at him.

“Who said you were invited? Sit.”

He points at the chair by the desk and the tone of his voice has Calum following his orders immediately.

Michael grinds back down on top of him, a gentle reminder that he exists. One of Ashton’s hands brushes through Michael’s hair whilst the other runs along his waistband, slowly pushing down the back of his jeans and cupping his arse.

“Such a good boy. Gonna put on a show for Cal? Show him what he’s missing?”

Calum frowns, an indignant noise coming from the back of his throat.

“I don’t understand…” He murmurs, but Ashton chooses to ignore him.

Michael rolls his hips against Ashton’s in reply, hands splayed by Ashton’s head. His hands twist into fists as Ashton squeezes harshly, fingers digging into the pale flesh. Calum’s soft whine of indignation is music to his hears, encouraging them both.

“Ash, please,” Michael whines, tucking his face into Ashton’s shoulder.

“What do you want, babe?”

“Touch me, _please_.”

Ashton obliges, pulling back to push Michael’s boxers down his thighs. He knows Calum has a glorious view right now of Michael’s full arse. He slaps the pale cheeks, kissing his way along Michael’s jaw as he moans into Ashton’s neck.

Luckily the lube isn’t far away, and with some fumbling, Ashton successfully has it in one hand, the other still splayed out on Michael’s cheek.

“Wh-what are you gonna do to him?” Calum’s voice is lower than usual and Ashton can tell he’s turned on.

“Gonna finger him, get him ready to take me. Stretch him out all good for my cock.”

Michael whines, back arching.

“Any particular reason I’ve been banished from the bed or…”

Ashton rolls his eyes, ignoring Calum again and instead squeezing lube over his fingers. He can feel Michael practically vibrating with excitement on top of him.

The blonde boy is always good at putting on a show, his whining and pleading is enough to get anyone hard, let alone someone who’s not allowed to join in.

As Ashton sinks his long finger into Michael, he hears Calum moving around next to him. A quick glimpse reveals he is, in fact, undoing his jeans, preparing to touch himself.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” He asks, an eyebrow raised.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Calum asks, fed up of this game Ashton’s forced him to play.

“No, Calum. You ignore us for-” Michael cuts himself off with a moan as Ashton slowly pushes another finger into him, spreading them slightly.

Ashton sees Calum dick twitch and repeats the action, feeling his own dick kick at Michael’s second moan.

“I didn’t mean to ignore you…” Calum’s voice has a petulant tone, like he’s whinging to his parents about being grounded and Ashton can’t help but laugh.

“Maybe not, but now you have no choice but to pay us attention.”

Calum’s response is muffled by the sound of Michael’s lips back on Ashton as the blonde begins to move, pushing himself further onto Ashton’s fingers, riding them like he was born to do it.

“Feels so fucking good, Cal. Does it look good?” He murmurs against Ashton’s skin, but they all know Calum heard.

“So good, baby.

Michael shudders when a third finger enters him, and Ashton’s fingers nudge his prostate.

“Fuck,” He and Calum say simultaneously.

“You gonna come?” Calum asks, the jealousy clear in his voice.

Michael hums a response, mixed in with a plea for someone to touch him. Ashton locks eyes with Calum and the brown boy gets the message, walking over to the bed and grabbing Michael’s cock with no qualms, staring in wonder at the precome flowing from his dick.

“Gonna come so hard for us.” Ashton mutters, mostly to himself as he grinds his dick against Michael’s thigh, relentlessly rubbing his fingers against Michael’s prostate.

“Yeah, I, _fuck_ , I’m-” He comes with a shriek, the rest of his sounds muffled by Calum’s mouth against his, kissing him through his climax, wanking his dick hard and fast.

Michael slumps forward, into Calum’s arms, and Ashton watches them with a fond filled look that’s far too pure for this moment.

“I’m sorry.” Calum whispers. “Just got a bit carried away with having new people around. I’m still getting to grips with this whole ‘boyfriend’ thing.”

Michael finds some energy, stroking Calum’s hair and pulling him forward so Ashton can embrace them both.

“Love you.” Calum says, kissing Ashton then Michael, hand sneaking down between them to palm at Ashton’s bulge. “Wanna show you how much.”

Ashton smiles, and Calum knows he’s forgiven.

 

∴

 

When they come off stage, Ashton can’t stop smiling. One show left, and then they’re done. Each show has felt better than the next, especially now that Calum is paying him extra attention, spending more time at the back of the stage smiling at Ashton, and dancing all stupid and goofey with Michael.

The normal routine of heading to a bar after the show isn’t on today – they’ve agreed that tomorrow night they can go mad and party like it’s 2012. Tonight, they’re going to get some rest, have a decent night’s sleep so they can put on the best last show ever.

In the van back to the hotel, Ashton sits between his boyfriends, left hand linked with Calum’s and right arm curled around Michael. Considering the situation, they should all be tired, but instead they’re all fairly awake, excited to have some alone time.

Arriving at their floor, Luke excuses himself, eyes basically already closed as he stumbles to his door, about ready to pass out.

Ashton smiles at Calum, unlinking their hands to unlock his room.

Before long they’re in their normal cuddling pile on Ashton’s bed, lazily kissing and holding each other.

“You played so good today.” He says, cuddling Michael into his side. “Both of you, so so good.”

The smile he gets from Michael lights up the room, and Ashton can’t help but smile back.

“So did you. God, is it really possible that we get better each night we play?” Michael laughs cockily, and Calum slaps his arse playfully.

“You totally just jinxed it.”

Ashton feels Michael’s dick perk up at the slap and he can’t help but giggle.

“Always so easy for it.” But it’s not teasing, just a statement, an observation of his boyfriend and his insatiable libido.

“It’s hard not to be when my boyfriends are as gorgeous as you two.”

Calum leans over Ashton, kissing Michael on his cheek.

“You’ve become such a sap,” The brown boy says. “Been spending too much time with Ashton.”

The man in question squawks as his boyfriends giggle at him.

And that’s how the night continues, hands on skin, giggles muffled against each other’s lips.

When Ashton can sense they’re all close, Michael’s stomach jumping where Ashton’s arms are wrapped around him, holding him up from behind, and Calum’s hands tight in the blonde’s hair where he’s licking at his dick, he slows his pace.

“At the,” he pants, squeezing Michael’s waist harder as he tries to continue fucking back onto Ashton’s dick. “At the risk of sounding even sappier than you accuse me of being…”

Michael chokes out a laugh around Calum’s dick and it makes the brown boy whimper.

“I love you both.”

He sees Calum roll his eyes. “Hey, no, serious.”

Michael pulls off of Calum’s dick with a pop. “Bloody hell, Ash, talk about picking your moments…”

But Ashton continues. “No, I love you and now is the time to tell you. So, yeah,”

He falters when Michael shifts back onto his dick a little more. “It took us so long to sort this out, but we did it. And I’m so happy.”

Calum smiles, leaning over Michael between them to kiss Ashton.

“I love you too, both of you.”

Michael murmurs, “Love you both too, obvs. Now that Ashton’s stopped crying during sex, can we continue?”

Ashton huffs. “I wasn’t cry-”

Calum cuts him off with a loud laugh, hands stroking through Ashton’s hair. He slowly pushes his dick back into Michael’s mouth to shut him up.

They come simultaneously, something Michael won’t stop bragging about afterwards, but Ashton’s too caught up in the moment to care.

He falls asleep to the sounds of his boyfriends whispering sweet nothings to each other.

 

∴

 

It’s _finally_ the last night of tour, and Ashton is so glad for a break. Going home will be nice, getting back into routine and sleeping in his own bed is gonna feel glorious.

It’s been a fucking long tour so far, and he knows America will be just as gruelling. Tour is amazing, and fuck, he wouldn’t swap what they do for anything in the world. But sometimes, sometimes it’s nice to be home.

They’ve got a week of promo and some Australian sponsorship events to do, but it’s not long before they’ll be back on the tour bus, travelling through America and playing to thousands more fans.

Living out the dream.

Sure, touring makes him miss home. But now he knows tour will be significantly easier when home is on stage next to him every show, he knows he’ll sleep better when home sleeps on either side of him every night. Turns out, home was always closer than he ever thought.

**Author's Note:**

> aaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA!
> 
> feedback is ridiculously appreciated (do u know how hard i found it to write 26k without comments ensuring me ppl still wanted to read it etc - who knew i lived this much for validation LOL) so if you enjoyed, please please please drop me some kudos or a cheeky comment (or both!!) reading feedback is one of the best things ever it makes me so happy, and encourages me to write more, wink wink nudge nudge
> 
> come be my friend on [tumblr](http://cashtontrash.tumblr.com), and u can also reblog this[ here](http://cashtontrash.tumblr.com/post/159086535532/trivium-by-irwah-on-ao3-pairing-michael)!
> 
> if u got this far, thank you so so much for reading and i hope you enjoyed!  
> until next time,  
> Dani xxx


End file.
